After Echoes
by WasteNoTime
Summary: AU. Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.
1. Prologue

Hello and welcome to my _Out With A Bang_ piece, a story I've been working on for months.

Two amazing artists had been working with me so I can now present you a 'movie' trailer and a poster for _After Echoes_.

The author of the poster is one and only _**heartstringsduet**_ (tumblr) who depicted my favourite scene from the whole story. I can proudly use it as a cover for the story. For a bigger picture, go to her blog and add – **/ post / 123230057501 -** without spaces.

Applause for the trailer should go to _**47mel47**_ (tumblr) who created something beyond my imagination. I couldn't hope for a better video. Make sure you watch it at this link – **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI**

During the progress of writing I had a pleasure of meeting three amazing people without whom this story wouldn't be the same – _**lyingxiscariot**_ (FFnet), _ **FangirlingFanatic**_ (FFnet),and _ **stulti**_. I can't thank them enough for all their help.

Only thanks to the moral support from _**Cutiekins**_ (FFnet)and _**precious-passenger**_ (FFnet) this story was finished on time. The last half a year was a real roller coaster and I couldn't have done it without them.

Lastly, this story probably wouldn't exist without _**GleekMods**_ , the people behind _Out With A Bang_. Only because of them, organizing this huge Glee bang, we will all have a pleasure of reading many amazing stories.

About the story:

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : prostitution, dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : weekly on Mondays (unless I'm physically unable to update)

 **Chapter notes** : the prologue takes place 3 months into the story; in the Chapter 1 we go back and get to see how the characters get into the situation they are in now

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

Out of all the possibilities of how he could have died, the last thing on Blaine's mind was being killed by the man he loved. But, here he was.

"On your knees," Blaine heard as soon as he entered the living room. He turned around.

Kurt was standing in the doorway of their house, his gun pointed at Blaine. He gulped audibly. He had seen that gun numerous times, but never aimed at him. And while he didn't fear his boyfriend, it made him feel unsettled.

"Warn the guy before attempting roleplay. You might give me a heart attack next time," Blaine joked, but Kurt didn't even smile.

"I said, get on your knees," he said, his voice getting tighter.

"I'm not in the mood, Kurt," he said apologetically and dropped on the couch. He was exhausted. "Can we watch a movie and snuggle instead?"

Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, they shone with determination, in a way he reminded Blaine of a madman. He was about to make such comment when an ear-splitting gunshot echoed throughout the house.

"The fuck are you doing, Kurt?" Blaine nearly jumped out of his skin as soon as he noticed that the bullet tore the material of the couch, leaving a hole in it. An inch away from where he had been sitting when Kurt took a shot.

"My job," the man responded calmly. "Get on your knees."

Blaine didn't move. "What? I don't understand. Isn't your job to protect me? It's called witness _protection_ , not witness _murdering_ for a reason, you know?" he tried to laugh it off.

"New orders. I hate to kill you but my superiors think it's too risky to keep you alive. It's nothing personal."

"Not personal? Did it mean nothing to you?" Blaine asked, hurt vivid in his voice. "I mean us. I… thought we had something special."

Kurt laughed. Cold and short. "You are a whore, Anderson. Nobody can have _something special_ with you. The only way I could keep you out of trouble was by pretending to have interest in you. Now, be a darling and get on your knees like you do for living."

Blaine felt a pang in his heart at the cruel words thrown at him. He had heard countless insults before, but hearing them from the person he cared about, hurt so much more. Without a second thought he dropped into an overfamiliar position, defeated.

"Please, don't do this. I won't tell anyone. I will leave the country, disappear. Just, don't kill me," Blaine pleaded, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence. He knew he sounded pathetic, but he didn't know how to beg without looking pitiful.

Kurt sighed but his hardened features didn't soften. "What do you have to live for? No family, no friends, no respectable job. Isn't it easier to just end it? I promise it will be quick."

Blaine winced at the words. He couldn't believe he was hearing them from none other than Kurt. He knew the bullet couldn't possibly cause more pain than those hurtful words. He looked Kurt in the eye.

"Do it then," Blaine braved to say, yet his voice was shaky. "Don't keep me waiting."

"Thank you," Kurt said and that was it.

It happened quickly. Blaine didn't even manage to blink before another gunshot, this time aimed directly at him, disturbed the silence. He choked when pain hit his chest and spread through his whole body like electricity. Slowly he looked down to see a dark red stain spreading further on his shirt with each passing moment. With one last look at Kurt, he fell face down on the floor.

As he was losing consciousness, he felt Kurt's fingers on his neck, and soon heard his words, "Hey, Elliot, it's me, Kurt. I need your help… I just killed Blaine."


	2. Ch I: OF LOVERS AND MURDERERS

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by **_heartstringsduet_** (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by ** _47mel47_** (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** _**lyingxiscariot**_ (FFnet), _ **FangirlingFanatic**_ (FFnet), and _ **stulti**_.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Weekly on Mondays

 **Chapter notes** : Early update because I won't have time tomorrow. In this chapter we travel 3 months back in time and then the story goes chronologically. We also see a little of Blaine with a client and murder takes place in this one, so bare that in mind

* * *

 **CHAPTER I: OF LOVERS AND MURDERERS**

 **Three months ago…**

 _Bang._

Blaine Anderson startled awake. For a moment he felt disorientated before taking a look around. He was in his bedroom and something had woken him up. He was too tired to care.

 _Bang._

"I know you're in there! Open the damn door!" someone was shouting, loudly enough for everyone in the building to hear.

He recognised the voice. "Shit," he cursed in a whisper and jumped out of bed, hurrying to get to the person who so desperately wanted to see him.

Before opening the door, he plastered on his most charming smile and one by one unlocked both locks. While still opening the door, he said cheerfully, "Mr. Jenkins, hi, good to see you."

The old man in front of him looked him up and down, clearly insulted by his appearance. "Where is my money, Andrew?" he demanded instantly, his wrinkles deepening as he frowned.

Blaine narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, hoping that he wasn't overdoing his act. "Money? Is it time for rent already?"

"Do you have money or not?"

"Um, yeah, I have, actually. Give me a sec," he said, closing the door.

He had some money saved, so he dug under the mattress and took several bills out. He checked his other hiding place but, as expected, found nothing.

When the door opened again, his landlord looked even angrier. "I don't have the whole day," he mumbled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

 _Yeah, 'cause watching TV is so important,_ Blaine thought, but instead of voicing it, he extended the bills for the man to count. "Here you go. It covers June."

The man looked at the money and then back at his tenant. "I'm collecting rent for September," he said, unimpressed.

"Wow, is it almost September? Time really flies, doesn't it?" Blaine laughed lightly.

"I'm sick and tired of you. You have until this evening or you are out on the street," the man spat.

"No no no, please, I'm doing what I can. You know I was robbed last month and it's difficult to get back on my feet. Just give me more time, I can–"

Mr. Jenkins raised his hand to signal to him to stop talking. "I've been too nice to you. Pay or get out," he said and turned on his heel, but not before snatching the cash out of Blaine's hand.

Before closing the door, Blaine didn't miss a pleased smirk on his next door neighbour's face as she walked into her apartment after pretending to have had trouble unlocking her door. She just so happened to overpower the lock as soon as his conversation with the landlord was over.

Back in the apartment, Blaine collapsed on his unmade bed and covered his face, trying to think. He already owed the man for three months and he couldn't think of a way to make so much money in one day. When thoughts about selling organs on a black market crossed his mind, he knew it was time to distract himself by doing something else. Showering sounded like a good idea.

Leaving his dirty boxer-briefs on the floor, Blaine made his way into the bathroom that was just a few steps away from the bedroom. There were some advantages to renting a tiny apartment after all.

One look at the mirror on the cabinet door was enough to tell why the landlord had looked so disgusted upon seeing him. Aside from reddened eyes and swollen eyelids that could easily be fixed with some tea bags and ice water, there was some serious bruising on his neck that would not go unnoticed without concealer. A quick look into the cabinet reminded Blaine that he had inconveniently run out of it a few days prior. With a sigh, he closed the cabinet door and climbed into the bathtub. Cold water would make him feel more awake, and then he could think more clearly. At least that's what he hoped for.

When he turned the water on, nothing came out of the showerhead. He thumped the pipe in disgust. A few drops appeared, and then, with a coughing sound, brownish water started pouring down on him, as if he needed more bad luck. Blaine wrinkled his nose, but didn't move away. He needed to clean up as well as he could, and if the pipes were acting up once again, there wouldn't be any clean water for several hours. He had to do what he had to do with the resources he had. On the bright side, this time there was no unpleasant smell accompanying the dirty water.

The wash-up didn't take long, even though Blaine took extra time washing his thinning hair. One of the girls from the corner that he frequented had sworn that massaging the scalp strengthened the roots and kept hair from falling out excessively. And while Blaine wasn't quick to believe her, it was either this or costly vitamins, so he decided to give it a try.

In the bedroom, Blaine stood naked in front of a tall wall mirror and took in the damage. It wasn't as bad as he had thought. Apart from the hand size marks on his neck, he had several bruises on his hips and a bite mark around his left nipple, but the rest of his body was in a reasonably good condition. He had been getting a little underweight in recent months, but people still found him attractive, so it hadn't caused any problems for him. At least not yet.

Next on his list was the concealer hunt. And he knew just the right person who could help him. It wasn't a friend. But, it was the next best thing.

The girl, Kitty, lived downstairs, so Blaine went to the familiar apartment, but refrained from knocking. Moans coming from inside stopped him. He waited silently by the door for a couple more minutes before a very happy man left. Only then did he knock.

The door opened immediately and the girl appeared in her skimpy outfit. "Missed me alrea–" she began purring before recognising Blaine. "Oh hey, midget, thought my client came back for more," the girl said. She didn't wait for response and spoke again as soon as she noticed the marks on his neck. "Oh, look at you, someone got pretty rough last night, huh?" she asked with a teasing smile, which did a poor job at masking the empathy in her voice.

"More like last night and this morning," Blaine rolled his eyes and leaned on the door frame for support.

"Ouch," Kitty scrunched up her nose in disgust and frowned. "I hate breathplay. I prefer my lungs full and properly functioning."

"Not like I had a choice. The client paid quite well," Blaine shrugged. "I came here to ask for a favour. I'm out of concealer. Could you lend me some, please?"

"Well, I don't know if you deserve it…" Kitty said slowly, as if she was considering the request.

"Fuck, Kitty, I'm not in a mood for this shit. I'm already having a bad day," Blaine said angrily. He hadn't planned to do so, but once he started talking, he no longer had control over his voice.

Kitty's eyes widened and she raised her hands in mock defence. "Geez, sorry for joking," she said, and disappeared into her apartment. Moments later she came back with said item and after Blaine muttered a thank you, she asked, "What crawled up your ass and died?"

Blaine sighed heavily. "Mr. _Jerkings_ kicked me out. Well, he will, because there is no way I can make a few months' worth of rent until this evening. This is bullshit…"

"Damn, whatcha gonna do?"

"I'll figure something out, as always. Maybe it's for the best. If he lets me off the hook I won't need to worry about this debt. And I'll just rent another deluxe apartment in this prestigious neighbourhood," Blaine forced a laugh.

"You could proposition him. Whenever I'm late with rent, a blowjob always helps keep him satisfied until I can pay," Kitty offered, imitating a blowjob with her tongue.

"Do you think I haven't tried? I even offered to let him fuck me, but he is not into the whole, quote, "sick perversion". So yeah, he isn't really an "a hole is a hole" kind of man," Blaine said. While he was a little disappointed he couldn't use his talents to postpone the payment, he was more relieved he didn't need to go through _that_.

"You do have the necklaces the rich creepo gave you. They are probably worth something," Kitty suggested.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought about the jewellery that was hidden in the special box under his work gear. It had crossed his mind before, but he couldn't bring himself to part with the necklaces. In some twisted way, they made Blaine feel special, even cared for. This man didn't just fuck him and kick him out; he took his time to select a small gift for him every time they met up. Sometimes, after a particularly draining night, Blaine would wear one of them to bed, pretending it was a gift from his boyfriend whom he would see the following day. The comfort those little pieces of jewellery provided him meant more than some quick cash.

"I'm saving them for when things get really bad. Now they are just mediocre," Blaine said, toying with the concealer in his hands, the label suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world.

"Suit yourself. I need to go get ready for another client," Kitty said with a yawn. "You can keep the concealer; there is very little left anyway."

"Thanks. Have fun…" Blaine said their usual goodbye whenever one of them was going to work.

"Sure. And do something to your eyes," the girl said before shutting the door.

Blaine got back to his apartment just in time to hear his old phone ring. He raced to the nightstand and saw the name on the screen.

 _John Travis_

"Shit, shit, shit," Blaine cursed before picking up. "Andrew speaking."

"Good afternoon, Andrew, this is Mr. Travis' maid speaking," a female voice said. "You were expected to arrive five minutes ago. I would like to check if you are going to make it today at all?"

"Yes, I'm on my way already. Traffic is awful today," he lied. "I'll be there soon."

"I will let Mr Travis know," the girl said and hung up.

"Shit, shit, shit," Blaine repeated his mantra.

The short conversation made his heart beat like crazy. There was no time for the concealer and definitely not for the tea bag procedure for his eyes. At least he was dressed and could leave right away. As much as he hated John Travis, he couldn't afford losing him. After all, he was one of the best paying regulars

John Travis was a successful businessman in his early forties. They had met at the library he funded and Blaine often visited. He'd been reading a booklet about New York when he felt someone looking over his shoulder. Blaine was about to tell this someone off, but the bright smile that was directed at him made him forget why he was angry in the first place.

One coffee and a proposition later, Blaine's naïve romantic hopes were shattered and the deal was made. They agreed to meet up once a fortnight at the same time for a couple hours. The man didn't give him any other details and Blaine was definitely not ready for the strange instructions over the phone made by his maid. The first time with Travis had been the most uncanny experience and Blaine had considered never going back to him, but two weeks later he was short on money as always, so he ignored the sick feeling in his stomach and went back.

It helped that the man was rather handsome. At first Blaine even felt attracted to him, but not after his discoveries. While gallant and highly intelligent, John Travis was sick in his mind. That was the only explanation Blaine could come up with. Every time with him left Blaine humiliated to a point where he couldn't look in a mirror and often ignored the world the next day in his need to emotionally, and sometimes physically, recover.

There was no getting used to their meet-ups. Every time was a different kind of surprise as well as mental torture. Whether it was a water enema to make him look pregnant, or a pig tail plug, there was no way to get ready for what was coming. Not when the client loved the element of surprise.

He hoped that the man would leave him in one piece this time, because whether he was mentally prepared or not, he would have to go looking for a new place to live. Being exhausted, however, was a small issue compared to his financial situation. Even with all his savings and the payment from Travis, he wasn't sure he could afford to pay a deposit together with the first month's rent.

As Blaine left the apartment building, breaking news from the local radio station drifted out of a first-floor window and caught his ear.

 _"…_ _now for the local crime news. Yesterday, a group of kayakers found a male body in the Chicago River. The corpse was identified as Terry Brown, a person well-known by CPD. He had been arrested for drug dealing and battery twice. Prime theory is suicide since the body shows no signs of violence, but further investigation will tell more._

 _"_ _Onto the brighter stories. Today is the last…"_

Distracted, he nearly bumped into an old lady from his floor who greeted him with a smile. "Hello, Andrew boy."

"Hi, Mrs Mullen. Bye, Mrs Mullen," he shouted, and broke into a run. He felt bad for not chatting with the lonely lady, but couldn't spare time.

When he reached Travis' mansion fifteen minutes later, he was out of breath from running, and sweating like a pig. The maid looked at him, unimpressed, but let him in without a word. Blaine thanked her and went straight to the guest room where he was expected to change into the clothes chosen by his client.

When he entered the guest room, he was surprised to find Travis sitting in an armchair with the usual glass of whiskey in his hand, his suit as impeccable as always. Blaine wanted nothing more than to ask why the man was there, especially when he was looking so intently at him, but he didn't. His dark eyes showed him just how angry the man was under his calm exterior.

"Just ignore me, darling," Travis said, taking a small sip of his drink. "I want to watch you getting ready. Nothing out of ordinary, do things the way you would do them if I wasn't here. And just so you know, you lost your safe-word privileges by being late."

Blaine nodded curtly, fear settling in his stomach. He was afraid of what the man's words and tone meant, but he had to go through with this. He just had to.

On the bed he found several items. There was a bright red sleeveless dress. He took it and measured it to himself to find that it was just above his knees. Nearby, he saw a shining blonde wig. It was his fifth time with Travis and this fantasy of his hadn't changed. He wondered what his name was going to be this time. And most of all, what this girl's backstory would be. Last time Maia was a nymphomaniac. With itching powder between his ass cheeks and his hands tied tightly behind his back, the only way to scratch himself was by rubbing himself on various objects, supporting Travis' story that Maia was a sex addict.

Blaine was close to tears when he saw a cock plug next to the wig. It was short and luckily not too thick, but Blaine had experience with cock plugs before, and it never went well. It was uncomfortable, painful even, and left his cock sensitive for several days afterwards. He didn't want a repeat of that.

He didn't mind the cock ring that sat next to the plug.

Ignoring the silver pieces, Blaine got out of his clothes and put them neatly on a dresser, feeling Travis' eyes on him the whole time. Even after years of selling his body, Blaine still couldn't get used to hungry stares. He felt more vulnerable than when he had someone using him.

"Gorgeous," Travis whispered, pinching Blaine's ass as he passed by.

With trembling hands, Blaine picked up the plug and took a deep breath.

"Faster!" the man shouted, and a shattering sound rang through the room. When Blaine dared to look, he saw little pieces of glass covering the ground.

He didn't have to be told twice. Soon his cock was plugged and firmly tied.

"Dress up. I'll be waiting for you upstairs… Alison," Travis said and walked out of the room, closing the door.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling between his legs, Blaine picked up the dress and put it on. It was rather tight, but he knew he wouldn't be wearing it for long so it didn't matter. He then picked up the wig and put it on expertly. After several sessions with Travis, Blaine already had a hang on it.

When all was done, Blaine looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced. He had once played a woman in an all-boys school play, but he could have never thought, back in the day, that he would be wearing dresses and wigs for a middle-aged man's pleasure. Apparently everything could be bought, even his dignity.

He left the room, feeling as if he was going to his own execution. On the way to Travis' room, he came face to face with the maid. Blaine lowered his head in shame and walked passed her quickly. He didn't look up until he reached the man's bedroom. He knocked and moments later the door was opened for him.

"Ah, Alison, darling, I'm so glad you could make it. Come in," Travis smiled deviously at him.

And then it began. Whips, paddles, crops, nipple clamps, shock wands, just to name a few torture devices. He had never cried so much during a session with a client before. It was a life-time lesson – don't ever be late for anything.

"I don't often curse, especially not in front of other people, but damn. I must say I had quite an enjoyable experience," Travis said when he was finally untying Blaine's wrists from the bedpost. "Ah, the ropes were tied too tightly, my apologies. I hope it didn't bring you discomfort."

Blaine shook his head weakly. His body felt heavy, but he couldn't focus on anything except for his backside, which was pulsing in waves of hot pain. He felt pins and needles in his hands as his circulation was restored.

"Stay here; I'll be right back," the man ordered, and left, but soon came back. Blaine whimpered when he felt something cold being applied to his hurting body. "This shall help with the pain. I must admit I went overboard with the whip. Again, I apologise for my behaviour. I could not stop myself as soon as I caught a sight of your reddening skin. You are a masterwork, darling."

Blaine whimpered as his client continued massaging his lower body. Whatever was used on him was giving him a cooling sensation, but the rough skin of Travis' palms intensified the pain. He tried going to his happy place again, but as soon as a harsh slap landed on one of his ass cheeks, he couldn't help but stay in reality. He lost count at nine.

"Alright," Travis straightened up after a while. "That was a great workout, thank you."

"It was my pleasure," Blaine whispered hoarsely. He knew it would please the client.

The man lit up a cigarette and blew the smoke out at him. "So, how is school going on?" he asked conversationally, as if he hadn't just brought him immense pain.

"I'm working on it," Blaine said weakly.

"That's good… And what are your plans for New York? Still planning on moving sometime soon?"

"Yes. Just need to save some money first," Blaine said. Every time they were together, Travis would ask the same thing, and Blaine's answer never changed. He didn't know why he bothered asking by now.

"Someone as _talented_ as you should have no problem with that. If you charge everyone as much as you charge me, you should be rich by now," he laughed. Blaine didn't think eighty bucks were too much for what he had to endure. "I'm sure you are wise enough to put away some of the money you earn?"

"I do," Blaine answered simply, knowing by now it was no use trying to explain that sometimes he could hardly survive on what he made, let alone save money.

"That's good," the man said. Cigarette ash drifted down onto Blaine's body. "I didn't become a successful businessman by spending everything I earned. Of course, it might be difficult for such a slut like you to comprehend… I mean, _understand_ it."

"I understand," Blaine responded before even thinking.

"Don't you talk back at me, you slut!" the man growled. He took a calming breath and smiled at him. "Hm… I have a gift for you. I know it's yet another necklace, but you are probably the only person I know who will appreciate them."

Travis took a blue jewellery box out of the nightstand and gave it to Blaine, who got onto his elbows and opened it right away, well aware of how much the man liked being praised for his good taste. The box revealed a necklace made of a large green stone with green flecks, hanging on a thin chain. Blaine turned it over to see a metal back, to which the stone must have been glued.

"It's lovely. Thank you," he said gratefully. Even if it wasn't the most beautiful necklace he had received from the man, he appreciated the gesture.

"This one is my favourite. I absolutely adore bloodstones. It goes nicely with the brass chain, don't you think? Quite exquisite. I got it custom made for you," he said.

Blaine tried to ignore the pain and focused on his gift. "Why would you do that for me?"

"Like I've said, I thought you might appreciate them."

"I do, really, but–"

"Shh, do not think too much. Put it on for me."

Blaine nodded. He couldn't argue. He didn't want Travis to think he was ungrateful and take the gift away. One day that necklace might be the only thing between starving and a hot meal. He put it on and Travis took the box away.

"Do you have anything scheduled after our session?" Travis asked.

"No."

The answer satisfied the man. "Wonderful. I'd love to go for round two if that's okay with you? After all, it's our last time together."

"Last one?" Blaine couldn't hide his surprise and disappointment. Travis always seemed to be satisfied by his services.

Travis laughed at his reaction. "What's wrong, got upset? I should have known. Sad you are losing an opportunity to get fucked, so hungry for it... I shouldn't even have to pay you, I'm sure you would put out for me for free."

"I wouldn't–"

The man rolled his eyes and stood up. "I'll pay you. I wouldn't want you going crazy on me. Go to the bathroom and freshen up. I'll be back with money in a moment."

After Travis left Blaine sighed in relief. He took several moments to compose himself, his momentary fear of not getting paid overwhelming him.

He pushed himself up and flinched after pain from his backside coursed through his whole body. In the bathroom, Blaine freed himself from the restraints. The ring went off easily, but the tip of his cock had started swelling a little due to the plug staying in for too long at an uncomfortable angle. Finally, though, there was nothing on or inside his body.

Blaine looked in the mirror to find that his eyes looked even worse than before. Having no other means of fixing his looks, Blaine splashed some water onto his face. While he waited for it to dry, he heard someone's steps in the room. He didn't want to face Travis just yet, so he stayed in his spot, waiting for the man to come get him. He didn't.

In the mirror, his eyes caught a movement from the other room, and Blaine saw a young stranger, close to his age. He hoped Travis didn't want a threesome; he hated being involved with more than one person. He could usually anticipate what someone would do if there were only two of them, but add someone else into the mix and he no longer knew what would happen. A bored person could find many ways to entertain themselves while his fuckhole was not available.

Another thought crossed his mind – this was probably his replacement. Travis had gotten tired of him and switched to a taller, more handsome guy. It explained why the man didn't want to see him anymore. Blaine didn't know how to feel about it. Sure, he was losing a rich client, but the idea of not seeing him ever again made him happy. He wondered if he should warn the poor guy about Travis' kinks.

He didn't have a chance though.

"What are you doing here?" Blaine heard Travis' raised voice.

Blaine frowned. Travis was clearly annoyed by the guy's presence. He looked at the pair, confused.

"Oh, John, hi. Long time no see," the man said with a cold smile. "How have you been?"

"What are you doing here?" Travis asked, and walked into Blaine's line of sight. He was surprised to see the man suddenly so pale.

"I was in the neighbourhood, thought I would pay a visit. I've heard you have something I might be interested in…" the man's smile and dark eyes sent chills through Blaine's body. "You've got yourself some company?" he asked, looking around at the messy room.

"I _had_ some company. The maid hasn't had time to clean up yet."

"I see…" the man nodded thoughtfully. "So, that thing I should be interested in… Where is it?"

Travis didn't move.

The man looked at him with disappointment. "Listen, John, I really have no time for this. I know you have that recording and if you don't give it to me… well, you saw _exactly_ what happened to Terry. He also tested my patience."

"Oh, yeah, okay, now I know what you are talking about," Travis laughed nervously. "It's right here."

Blaine watched as his client walked somewhere out of the mirror's reach, and after some rustle he was back with a single disc case. He handed it to the man.

"Are there more copies?" the guy asked, opening the case.

"No. It's the only copy, I promise."

"You told anyone about this?"

"No, I swear. And I won't tell anyone. It's not like I have any proof anyway, right?" he laughed uneasily.

The man smiled. "Right. Thank you for your cooperation."

"Anything for a business partner," Travis said, relief vivid in his posture. "What would you say to a glass of wine? I have sent my maid to get me a bottle of–"

"I'd love to, but I have more important things to do," the stranger said, and moments later he was holding a gun pointed at Travis. Blaine clasped his hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry it has to end this way. My dad always appreciated your friendship."

"What? No, it doesn't have to end… I won't tell anyone, I swear! You can trust me," Travis pleaded, frantically looking around for an escape.

"Goodbye, John," the man said calmly, aiming at his heart.

Blaine held his breath.

 _Bang._

* * *

 **AN: It would be delightful to hear yours thoughts on this chapter/story :)**


	3. Ch II: OF OFFICERS AND CRIMINALS

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by _heartstringsduet_ (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by _47mel47_ (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** **lyingxiscariot** (FFnet), **FangirlingFanatic** (FFnet), and **stulti**.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Weekly on Sundays or Mondays

* * *

 **CHAPTER II: OF OFFICERS AND CRIMINALS**

Everything was happening so quickly. A gunshot. Travis on the floor, coughing blood until he finally succumbed. Another gunshot. The stranger slowly walking out of the room. A scream. Another gunshot. Bathtub curtains. Police sirens. Voices from the bedroom. Someone in the bathroom. Two people in the bathroom. A familiar face. A slap.

"Anderson, can you hear me? Anderson!"

Blaine shook his head a little, his vision still blurry, but the voices were getting clearer now. He could feel the sides of a bathtub against his body but he had no memory of getting in there.

"Look at me."

Blaine tried, but he couldn't. He felt hands moving his head to the left side. He tried focusing his eyes when a face was right in front of him. When he could make out the person's features, he realised he knew this man.

"Sergeant Hall?" he asked, still unsure.

"Yes, kiddo, it's me," the man said slowly. "I need to know, did you see what happened?"

His face crumpled and the first tears escaped Blaine's eyes. He nodded at the question and hid his face in his hands. The fear of the killer finding him now slowly fading, he allowed himself to freak out externally. He didn't care about the people around him who saw him naked, sobbing in the bathtub. He didn't care about anything at all in that moment.

"I did, oh my god, I did," he started sobbing. "It's not happening, it can't be happening…"

"Shh, it's okay, kiddo, you're safe now," the Sergeant tried to calm him down. "Bring him a blanket, he must be in shock. Has the ambulance arrived yet?"

"Yes, they are downstairs," someone responded, but Blaine didn't pay attention to them.

"I'll take Anderson to them. I need to get him talking."

A soft blanket was thrown over Blaine's shoulders and the Sergeant helped him out of the bathtub. Instinctively he covered his private areas, and let the man walk him downstairs, only half aware of what was going on.

"He is freaking out. I need him calm so I can talk to him. Anything you can do?" he heard Sergeant Hall talking to someone. He didn't know if the man got any response, but soon someone was coming at him with a syringe.

"No! No, get away from me!" he yelled. He was already hurt, he didn't need more pain. "I don't consent, I don't consent!" he shouted for the second time that day, backing away from the people. He hoped this time he would be heard. "Please…"

"I'm sorry, I can't do anything if he refuses treatment." The awful syringe was backing away.

"Let me go, let me leave," Blaine asked. Suddenly his chest started aching and it was difficult to breathe. He needed to get out, he needed fresh air. There was so little air inside.

"I need his statement _now,_ but he is no condition to give it," Sergeant Hall said tightly. He must be angry. Angry people hurt Blaine. He had to run away from angry people.

He tried to get away, but the blanket was too long. One step back and he was lying on the floor, writhing in pain. His backside was on fire.

"Holy hell," Sergeant said above him. "I didn't notice that before…"

"Sir, how much pain are you in?"

Blaine knew this person was asking him, but he couldn't answer. He couldn't get up. He could only cry and mumble something. He himself didn't know what he was saying.

"How about now? Can you do anything?"

"Yes."

His arm hurt. Someone was hurting him again. _Please, stop_ , he was trying to say, but couldn't. They never stop anyway. Why bother…

Soon he didn't feel like crying anymore and it was bliss. He just felt dead tired. He didn't care that he was naked with people around him. They could do anything with his body. He only wanted sleep. So he relaxed and let his mind wander off.

Blaine's eyes snapped open. He looked around, disorientated. Everything was so white it hurt his eyes. He cringed at the light and slowly got used to it. Hospital. He wanted to sit up, but there was an IV dripping into his arm. He lay back and tried to remember what had happened.

His memories stopped at the murder. Blaine hoped to see someone who could explain things. Alas, he was alone in the room.

"Nurse," he tried to speak up, but couldn't get past a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time with more success. "Nurse!"

A short lady came into the room moments after. "Good to see you awake," she said, checking something on the monitors. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know. What happened?" Blaine asked. He wanted answers, not questions.

"I'll get the doctor, he can explain everything," the woman said. "Are you in pain?"

Blaine thought for a second. "No."

"Alright. Then I'll go fetch the doctor. He will answer your questions," she said and left the room.

The doctor came accompanied by Sergeant Hall and Blaine's least disliked Officer, Sam Evans. They explained to him what had happened.

After Travis was killed, Blaine had had a panic attack, so he was given sedatives and taken to the hospital. He had severe bruising on his lower back and buttocks, so they gave him painkillers. Now, Sam needed to take his statement. Then they wanted to keep him overnight. If everything went well, he was free to go in the morning.

Blaine nodded while the others spoke. They made things sound so simple.

The doctor left and so did Sergeant Hall, who needed to make some phone calls to follow up on the investigation. Sam pulled a chair closer to him and set a recording device close to both of them.

"So, tell me what happened," he said, looking at him anxiously.

"Where do I start?" Blaine asked, not sure what was expected of him. He had never done this before.

"Spoil the ending and then go back to the beginning," Sam suggested. "It's the best approach because I'll be able to ask appropriate questions."

"Don't you know what happened?" Blaine looked at him, confused. Sergeant had just told Sam he was about to take his statement on Travis' murder.

"I know, but I need to hear it from you," he said simply.

"I saw how John Travis was killed," Blaine said. Suddenly it felt more real than before.

"Good," Sam said, satisfied. "Let's go back to the beginning now. How do you know Travis?"

"Really?" Blaine looked at him pointedly. "You are really asking me this?"

"It's protocol, I have to ask that," Sam shrugged. "Please, answer."

Blaine side-eyed the recorder. "Fine, he is my… _was_ my client. I'd met him several times before today," Blaine gave him the short version.

"Please, elaborate on the word 'client'. What services did you provide to John Travis?"

"Sexual," Blaine responded reluctantly.

"You'll need to speak up," Sam said, pushing the recorder closer to Blaine's head.

"Sexual," he said loudly. He hoped that the sudden heat in his face wasn't visible.

"How did you meet the first time?"

"Same way I meet all my clients. He approached me and propositioned. We had sex, I gave him my number, so whenever he got horny, he texted me and I went to his house and we fucked," Blaine said. They didn't need details.

"So you met from time to time and just fucked?"

"If you want a detailed version, go watch some kinky porn," Blaine said, annoyed. Sam would need to find the dirtiest websites to find anything close to what Travis had done to him.

"Please, be serious. The more you cooperate, the sooner this will be over," Sam reminded him.

"Fine, we didn't just fuck. You want details? Alright, this sick bastard wanted me to pretend to be a woman, and called me female names," Blaine grimaced, enjoying Sam's shocked expression. "And today he whipped my ass to the point where I need painkillers, apparently. Other times he did other things, but can we not talk about it? I'm not in a mood to be reminded of that time he made me look pregnant with a water enema."

"Oh shit, sure, let's not talk about that, it's not… important," Sam coughed. Blaine didn't miss him adjusting himself in his pants. He tried not to dwell on it. "When did you go to his house today?"

"Around four, maybe? I don't remember the exact time."

"Afternoon?"

"Yes."

"And what happened when you entered the house?"

"The maid let me in. I went to the guest room where I was to dress up. Travis was there and watched me. He went upstairs and I followed a few minutes later. We fucked in his bedroom. Afterward he told me to freshen up in the bathroom and left the room. I heard someone else walk into the room. I peeked and saw a man of Asian descent, I think. Then Travis came and the guy shot him twice. He took something with him and left."

"Did you see what he took?"

"Some disk, I think."

"What time was it?"

"I was naked in the bathroom. Do you really think I could check the time? And even if I could, my first thought wasn't, 'oh I just witnessed a murder, better check the time!'" Blaine said, irritated. Stupid Sam with stupid questions. "And haven't some servants told you already?"

"Okay okay, sorry, calm down. Had Travis mentioned anything about this man before?"

"We mostly talked about me being a great slut. So no, he didn't get a chance to tell me about some enemy who wanted him dead."

"Got it…" Sam said slowly. "I think that's enough now. We've brought a sketch artist with us in case you could describe the killer."

Blaine closed his eyes. He remembered the face as if he were looking at a photo. "I can," he said.

"Okay," Sam said and walked to the door. He opened it, and moments later a short, redheaded girl walked in. "This is Lisa, our best artist. She will ask you some questions and draw a portrait of the killer the way you remember him."

The girl sat down on Sam's chair and started questioning Blaine on the appearance of the killer. It was harder than he had thought. The image in his head was as clear as if the man were standing there in the room, but he couldn't match the right words to the picture.

"The eyebrows were lower," Blaine corrected her before adding, "I think…"

"Try not to overthink it," Lisa said, lowering the sketchpad she was drawing on. "Sometimes, if you try too hard to focus on the details the whole picture disappears and you start forgetting the face. Relax and let the image float in your mind. If you push it, it will sink."

"Float, not sink, got it," Blaine said, too tired to actually try to find the meaning behind her babble.

"Shall we continue?"

"Mhm. But, make those eyebrows lower."

Mentally exhausted from focusing so hard on the scariest sight he had ever seen, Blaine wondered why people hadn't constructed a printer that could be hooked to someone's head and print what they imagined. It would have made his life a tad bit easier.

"Let's see, how does this look?" finally Lisa asked, showing Blaine the drawing.

He looked at it and his blood ran cold. It was one thing to see the face in his head, and another altogether, seeing it put on paper. He could only guess what he would feel upon seeing the man's photo, or worse, him in a flesh.

"It's him," Blaine whispered, his weak voice surprising him.

"Let me take a look," a very excited Sam said, and Lisa gave him the paper. As soon as he laid eyes on the picture, excitement was replaced by something else that Blaine could not pinpoint. "Oh… ah that will be all, Lisa, thank you."

"Pleasure to help," the girl said and stood up, ready to leave. "It was nice meeting you."

"Likewise," Blaine muttered, his eyes never leaving Sam. He was acting weird.

"Oh and Lisa, if you see Sergeant Hall, tell him to come here, okay? He should be around somewhere," he instructed the girl before she left.

"Who is this guy?" Blaine asked, looking at the sketch in Sam's hands.

Sam's chance to reply was lost, as at that moment Sergeant Hall came into the room without so much as knocking. "What do we have?" he asked.

Sam gave him the drawing and Sergeant's eyes went wide. This was not good. "Are you sure it's who you saw today in Travis' room?" he asked Blaine.

"Yes," Blaine rolled his eyes.

"This is the man who killed Travis?" Sergeant asked and Blaine had to suppress the urge to grimace childishly at him.

"Yes. Who is he?"

The question was not answered. Sergeant didn't even look at him, fixated on the drawing. He nodded to himself before speaking, "This is good. Maybe we can finally lock him up for good."

"Who is he?" Blaine repeated, this time angrily. He hated being ignored.

"I need to go inform the others of our main suspect," Sergeant said. "I'll arrange someone to guard the door tonight just in case."

With that the man left. Blaine lost patience.

"If you don't tell me who this is, I will take my words back and you can put my statement in your a–"

"It's Mike Chang," Sam sighed and collected the recorder. "He runs the Chang family now that his father is dead," he clarified when he saw Blaine's confusion.

"The Chang…"

"Family, yes. It's basically a crime family. Have you watched 'Godfather'?"

"So it's mafia? I saw the freakin' godfather kill someone?" Blaine asked, involuntarily grabbing the sheets tightly. "You have got to be shitting me!"

"Well, 'crime boss' would be a more fitting title, but yeah, you are right…"

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," Blaine swore, feeling as if he was going into another panic attack.

"Calm down," Sam said. "You don't want to be sedated again."

"He'll kill me. He'll find out that I saw him and he will kill me. I take my statement back. I didn't see anything, I wasn't even there, I–"

"Stop freaking out. Sergeant Hall will take care of everything. You can help bring that family down. With your testimony in court–"

"I'm not suicidal," Blaine shook his head frantically. "I won't testify. No court would believe a prostitute anyway."

"If we can put Mike Chang behind bars you will be saving many people. Maybe we could imprison not only Mike, but his accomplices, too. Think about it."

"I don't want any part in this. Going against mafia is suicide. It's probably what got Travis killed. I won't die because of him, he has hurt me enough. I don't want to die," Blaine said, shaking.

"We will keep you safe," Sam promised. Blaine almost laughed. "Chang didn't see you, did he?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Your name will be kept anonymous so nobody will ever know you are an eye witness," Sam said lightly. Easy for him to say.

Blaine didn't say anything. He wished he hadn't woken up in the afternoon. He would have missed the session and everything that had followed. He could have still been in bed in his apartment.

Sam's fellow officer came to the hospital under Sergeant's orders to guard his door, and Sam left to deal with his statement. Just like that, he was left alone.

The nurse came to check on him again. It was dark outside and she told him it was nearing ten. When asked, he admitted to feeling tired, but refused sleeping pills. He doubted he would be able to fall asleep on his own, but he'd rather try than be medicated again.

"Press this button if you change your mind or if there is anything else you need," the nurse said, pointing at the button by his head. He promised he would, and she left.

Just like that he was left alone again with his thoughts.

His mind was a mess. All he could think about was the murder. Double murder, according to Sam. The cook was murdered while the killer was leaving the house.

Today two people had woken up and started their days just as they always did. Bam, bam, and that was it. He pitied Travis, but he mostly felt sorry for the cook and his family, if he'd had one. This murderer was only after the businessman; his employee had just gotten in the way. It could have just as easily been Blaine. This man could have walked into the bathroom and killed him. Blaine shuddered at the thought.

He hated his life at times, but he still preferred living.

The painkillers were leaving his system little by little. His back began aching, but he didn't want to call for help just yet. He could handle a little pain.

He didn't know how long he was lying there, staring at the ceiling. Long enough for the nurse to come back to check on him, Blaine thought when the door began to open. He closed his eyes. Better pretend he was sleeping.

The nurse closed the door and the only source of light was gone. Blaine waited for the light in the room to be switched on, but instead the nurse crossed the room in the dark. He wondered how she could see.

Something didn't feel right.

He dared to open his eyes just slightly. He wasn't prepared to see a dark figure hovering over him. And he definitely wasn't ready for the pillow suddenly being pressed against his face. Out of shock, Blaine forgot to scream.

It was too late now. His mouth was covered by the pillow and his nose pressed tightly. He couldn't breathe. He overcame his stupor, started thrashing in bed, grabbing the person's wrists, trying to lessen the pressure.

It didn't help.

He tried kicking the bed to get the guard's attention.

Nobody came.

With every second he felt dizzier and dizzier. His lungs ached for oxygen that they couldn't get.

The button.

His survival instincts overpowered fear and he realised he had a chance. Releasing those deadly wrists, Blaine began groping the wall. It had to be somewhere close. Somewhere.

Press.

He found it. His only chance. He kept pressing in long and short bursts. Someone ought to respond. They couldn't let him die.

All of a sudden the pressure was gone.

Blaine threw the pillow off his face and inhaled deeply in short breaths. It was glorious.

He looked around immediately for the threat, but the room was empty, except for him and a scared looking nurse, lying on the ground.

"Are you okay?" she asked, getting up on her feet.

No, he wasn't. Moments ago someone tried to kill him. He had hated breathplay before, but now he was grateful for it. He had learned to keep his breath in for longer periods. It might have just saved his life.

"I think so," he said to the nurse. He had to pretend to be normal. He didn't want to be sedated. He needed to stay awake in case the killer came back. "Just a little bit shaken."

"My colleague called police and also hospital security," the woman explained. "I'll stay with you until they get here," she said and stood by his feet.

"Thank you," Blaine said. This woman probably couldn't do much, but still, he felt safer.

"The officer guard fell asleep," she said. Blaine had a feeling she didn't like cops. "I can't believe it. You wouldn't see me falling asleep during a procedure."

She continued, but Blaine didn't listen. He didn't care that the officer had fallen asleep. He was more worried that the killer might get away. If he or she did, Blaine would be in a lot of danger. If they found him in the hospital, it wouldn't be hard to find his apartment either.

 _Shit,_ Blaine thought. He was expected to move out in the morning. Things couldn't get any worse.

Not long after, Sergeant Hall came into the room with Sam in tow. Sergeant looked furious, while Sam looked simply sleepy.

"Please, leave, ma'am," Sergeant told the nurse and she did, after glancing worriedly at Blaine. "I'm sorry our officer let the attack happen. How are you holding up?"

"Have been better," Blaine said curtly.

"Understandable," the man nodded. "I summoned Evans here because I'm assigning him to guard you until someone else takes over."

"What does that mean?" Blaine asked, confused.

"U.S. Marshals agreed with my suggestion to send you into immediate witness protection. Evans will be taking you to a safe house. Your flight is in two hours, so you will be leaving immediately. I have two plane tickets to New York here," he said, handing Sam an envelope. "Go to Anderson's place, pack the essentials. You are flying from O'Hare airport, the whole info is on the tickets. Got it?"

"Yes," Sam said, straightening himself. He looked wide awake in seconds.

Blaine listened to the man carefully. He couldn't be serious. As much as he wanted to move to New York, he didn't want to be forced to go. He tried to tell them that.

"What? I don't want to–" he started protesting, but Sergeant Hall didn't care about his wishes.

"In New York, someone will be waiting to pick you up. They will take you to the deputy U.S. marshal who will be keeping Anderson safe. He should have the cover story ready by the time you arrive. Make sure everything is okay before you leave. I want to be sure that Anderson is in good hands. Everything's clear?"

"Yes," Sam said again.

"Wait, you can't expect me to up and leave…" Blaine said, looking at the men, waiting for them to burst laughing and tell him they were joking.

"The attempted murder tells us that Chang knows you are a witness to his latest crime," Sergeant told him seriously. "It's beyond us to keep you safe. You won't be safe in Chicago, I'm afraid, so we need to move you somewhere else."

"Why New York?"

"Marshals have a safe house ready there. Unfortunately, you will have to leave in your current condition. The nurse will give Evans painkillers in case you need them, so you can have a comfortable trip. I also requested that the Marshals appoint an agent who is advanced in medical care to make sure you are taken care of."

"This can't be happening," Blaine whined silently.

"You got lucky tonight–" Sergeant began, but was cut off by Blaine's laughter.

"Lucky? I was almost killed!"

"Indeed, but you didn't die," the man pointed out. "This person was an amateur. It wasn't done professionally. It wasn't thought through at all. Had it been Mike Chang himself, you would be dead by now."

"What if _he_ comes after me?" Blaine thought out loud.

"That's why we set up witness protection for you," Sergeant explained. "It usually takes a while, but this time we managed to arrange it quickly. Now, we only need your cooperation."

"Okay," Blaine said. If he wanted to live, there seemed to be no other choice.

"Brilliant. Evans brought you some clothes."

"Yeah," Sam said, lifting a bag he was holding. "The pants will probably be too long for you."

The two officers turned around while Blaine got out of bed with some difficulty and slowly put on the comfy sweatpants and a hoodie.

"I'm ready to go," he said, and the men turned around. "Hey, did you take my stuff from Travis' place?"

"We only took things that were considered evidence," Sergeant informed him. "We only found a necklace on you. Forgot to give it back to you earlier," the man said, and took the green necklace out of his pocket and handed it to Blaine.

"Thanks," he thanked the man and put it on. It felt heavy on his chest.

Sergeant smiled at him. "No, thank _you_ , kid. With your help, justice will triumph. Now, put that hood on, the fewer people who see you the better. And don't be late for the flight."

"Of course, Sir," Sam said, and gestured for Blaine to follow him. "Let's go. My car is in the parking lot," he said when they were in the corridor.

They didn't talk while driving to Blaine's apartment. Blaine was at a loss for words anyway. Nothing could have prepared him for such a life-changing event. Seeing someone die was traumatizing enough, but almost getting killed, and being forced to move, while knowing that someone out there might try to kill him again, was a new kind of stressful.

"Earth to Blaine?" Sam shook his hand in front of his face to get his attention. "Left or right here?"

"Um, right," Blaine said uncertainly, trying to orientate himself in the dark city.

"Ah, yeah, I remember arresting you by that corner," the officer laughed.

"Yes, good times," Blaine rolled his eyes. The fine he had gotten was more than he had had at the time. "It's that building, on the left."

Sam parked the car and Blaine led the way to his apartment.

"Nice place," Sam said politely, looking around the small, dingy apartment.

"Thanks," Blaine responded, having decided to not point out that the place sucked. "So what now?"

"You pack. Do you have a bag? I forgot to ask before."

"I do."

"Good. Pack the most important things. I'll watch the door," Sam said, puffing his chest out, and walked out of the apartment, leaving the door cracked open.

Blaine fished his old backpack out of the closet and looked around the bedroom, trying to figure out what he needed the most. He couldn't fit a lot in the single bag, and he could only pack hand luggage-appropriate things, so he had to be smart. In the end, he settled with a few pieces of clothing, important documents, money, and jewellery. The landlord would probably throw everything else out, but he had no choice but to leave the rest behind.

"I'm good to go," he said to the waiting Sam, and threw the bag over his shoulder. "Can I ask you for a favour? I have a few textbooks from the library and I want to return them. The rest will probably be thrown out."

"Why?"

"Couldn't afford rent, so I should be moving out tomorrow," Blaine said, embarrassed about his situation. "Obviously it's not happening."

"Sure, I can do that. I could also clear out your apartment and put everything in police storage? Except for the books of course; I'll take them to whichever library they belong to."

"You would do that? I would really appreciate it," Blaine sighed gratefully.

"I thought, you know, it must be hard being uprooted so suddenly, so it's the least I can do," Sam shrugged, and watched as Blaine locked his apartment. He then handed the key to Sam.

"Thank you," he said, in case he wouldn't be able to later.

"Good evening, officer," a high-pitched voice disturbed them, and Blaine turned around to see his next-door neighbour. Just what he needed. "Finally came by to arrest that slut, I hope? It's high time you locked him up. If you need I can testify that he sells… _sex,_ " she finished in a whisper.

"That won't be necessary, ma'am, but thank you for offering," Sam answered politely and took a step to walk away, but the woman blocked his way immediately.

"There is also this girl from downstairs, she does the same. I've heard her many times and seen many men," she said, grimacing in disgust.

"We'll look into that," Sam assured her, and Blaine could see from the way he kept checking his watch that he was uncomfortable.

"Thank you. I'm scared that one of their _johns_ might get lost and stumble in my apartment and rape me! I'm tired of constantly living in fear," she said dramatically, and Blaine had to cough to cover his snort.

"Perfectly understandable," Sam said in all seriousness. "But you will need to file a report and then we can take action. Now, please, excuse me, I need to do my job."

"Of course, Mr Sir Officer. Have a nice evening," the woman said, and walked into her apartment after giving Blaine a satisfied smirk.

As soon as they got into the car, Sam checked the GPS data. "The airport is near-by. It says here it should take about twenty minutes or so if there is no traffic."

"Cool," Blaine mumbled and hugged his bag. He felt exhausted.

"Crazy day, huh?" Sam asked out of the blue, smiling sympathetically at him.

"You could say so," Blaine laughed nervously. "I can't believe this is happening."

"M?"

"A few hours ago I woke up and got kicked out of my apartment, and now I'm a murder witness who is taken into this secret protection. Not to mention, someone just tried to kill me. It's insane," he said, shaking his head. He watched people walking outside and felt a pang of jealousy for their normal lives and freedom.

"Look at it as an adventure."

"An adventure that could end with me being dead? Sounds like a lot of fun," Blaine snorted.

"Well, this car ride could end with you being dead. You never know. Personally, I'd rather die in some awesome, movie-worthy adventure than, I don't know, choking while tying my shoes."

As weird as it sounded, Sam had a point. Blaine knew the likelihood of him dying had just doubled or tripled, but he was constantly only one violent client away from dying. The previous night of excessive breathplay could have ended his life. Suddenly he didn't feel as afraid.

"Well, when you look at it like that…" Blaine said slowly, still trying to process the new way of thinking.

"You have to stay positive. I know you are probably scared shitless and all, but worrying won't change the facts of what happened. And it won't affect what the Changs do. All you can do is stay hidden and let us do our jobs," he said, taking a sharp turn. "Sorry, was going too fast."

"It's easier said than done, the whole 'letting you do your job' thing. It didn't work out tonight. And I'm used to being in control of my life, and now I don't even know where you are taking me."

"To the airport. And then New York."

"Not what I meant," Blaine cut him off.

"I know it must be scary… But you can't really complain, it's a surprise vacation. You won't have to work and you get to travel. When was the last time you took a break?"

Blaine shrugged. "I usually take a day off after a rough client. Last time I had a long break was when I was still in school. Years ago."

"There you have it," Sam beamed at him. "Now change the attitude and enjoy your vacation."

Unexpectedly, a sincere smile appeared on Blaine's face, and while it didn't stay on for more than a mere moment, he found himself feeling slightly better. He inwardly thanked Sergeant Hall for picking Sam for his case.

The drive took them twenty-five minutes. In the airport, Sam opened the envelope and checked the tickets.

"Oh, first class, sweet. Business class must have been sold out," Sam said, examining his own ticket and passing the other to Blaine. "Come on, let's go. We don't have much time before boarding starts."

The line at the security check moved quickly, and soon they were looking for their gate. They easily found it and rounded the long line with the first class tickets. The seats were big and comfy, but still Blaine winced sitting down.

"How is sitting, by the way?" Sam noticed his frown. "Want some painkillers?"

"I thought it would be worse," Blaine said. The pain was getting worse, but he could handle it. "The flight is only two hours, so I should be fine."

"You can lie down in the seat," Sam said and, seeing Blaine confusion, lowered his seat into its prone position. "Well, after the takeoff," he added, raising it back up.

Lying down was glorious. As soon as it was safe to do so, Blaine rearranged his seat and the stewardess brought him a pillow and a blanket. While he couldn't fall asleep, snuggling with the blanket made him feel sort of safe. He almost declined free dinner because he didn't want to move, but his rumbling stomach forced him to endure the pain of sitting up. He ate absentmindedly, looking outside the window at the gorgeous, lit-up cities.

"It's gonna be fine," Sam said, watching him fidget on their way out. "There is someone waiting for us here. He will take us to the safe house."

As if on cue, they saw a man holding a sign with Sam's name on it. They walked up to him and Sam introduced himself, showing him his badge. The man took them to his car and, almost an hour later, they parked in front of a two-story house, a typical building in the suburbs. There was light in several windows and Blaine could see someone's shadow moving inside.

"I'll wait here," the driver said to Sam as he and Blaine got out of the car.

They walked up to the house in silence and Sam rang the doorbell. When Blaine heard someone's steps he thought his heart would stop. His hands had been shaking since the landing, but now he had to cross his arms over his chest to keep them still.

The door opened in seconds to reveal a young man who was smiling softly at them. "Hello," he said, eying the car behind them. "Come in."

They did, Blaine somehow managing to get his legs moving. He didn't see the wooden floor, he didn't notice empty photo frames on the wall by the staircase, he didn't pay attention to the brown rug resting by the entrance. He only had eyes for the man in front of them, the same man who, in Blaine's eyes, held his fate.

"I'm Sam Evans," Sam said when the door behind them was closed, and gestured towards Blaine. "And this is–"

"My husband, Blaine Anderson," the stranger said, and extended his hand for Blaine to shake. "I'm Special Agent Kurt Hummel. Nice to meet you."

* * *

 _ **Reviews would be lovely :)**_


	4. Ch III: OF SPECIAL AGENTS AND ROOMMATES

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by _heartstringsduet_ (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by _47mel47_ (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** **lyingxiscariot** (FFnet), **FangirlingFanatic** (FFnet), and **stulti**.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Weekly on Sundays or Mondays

* * *

 **CHAPTER III: OF SPECIAL AGENTS AND ROOMMATES**

"Excuse me?" Blaine said in a weak, shaky voice, unable to untangle his arms, just eyeing the man before him. He thought that his hearing must have failed him after the unpleasant landing earlier because there was no way he heard it right.

"I'll explain everything," Kurt assured him as he dropped his hand. "You can leave your bag here for now and we can talk in the living room. It will be much more comfortable there."

Blaine threw the bag onto the ground and followed the man through the kitchen and into the living room. It wasn't far, but Blaine's mind was racing faster than ever, and he managed to get a pretty decent theory of why this special agent referred to him as his husband. He didn't like it at all.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Kurt said as he sat down in an armchair and Sam dropped onto the couch. Blaine remained standing and neither questioned him. "If you don't mind, I would like to talk to Sam first, and when he leaves I will explain more about our living situation."

"Why?" Sam asked immediately, his eyes narrowing. "Sergeant Hall wanted me to make sure–"

"Sergeant Hall has no say in what happens here," Kurt cut him off. Though his voice was strict, his face remained friendly. "I have direct orders to not give any information to outsiders. It stays among me, my superior, and Blaine."

"Do you not trust me?" Sam asked.

"I don't trust anyone when it comes to protecting important witnesses; it's nothing personal," Kurt shrugged. "The fewer people who know anything, the better. You are here because it was your task to bring Mr. Anderson to the safe house. Now, I need to know if anything suspicious happened on your way here, and then your job will be done."

"Everything went smoothly," Sam answered reluctantly, glancing at Blaine, who was taking deep breaths.

"Perfect," Kurt said standing up. "It was nice meeting you–"

"Can I stay a little bit longer?" Sam asked, his eyes never leaving Blaine. The man attempted to smile at him, but failed.

"If you check the time on this plane ticket," Kurt said, giving an envelope to Sam, "you will see that you'd better leave now."

"A couple of minutes of privacy maybe?" Sam bargained, looking at the envelope. "I'm sure I can spare that," he said, giving Kurt a fake smile.

"Absolutely not," Kurt said. "It's nothing personal, I just can't risk you being a traitor. I would hate to come back in here to find Mr. Anderson dead."

"I would never–"

"It's okay, Sam, you can go," Blaine said, knowing that the fight was lost before it began. "I'll be fine. Tell Sergeant I'm grateful for what he did for me. And thanks for bringing me here safely."

"Fine." Sam sighed and stood up, defeated. "Take care of yourself, alright?" he said, giving Blaine a quick hug and shaking Kurt's hand politely. "And you take care of him."

"He is in good care," Kurt said, standing up. "Let yourself out, please. Mr. Anderson and I have a lot to discuss."

Blaine almost snorted. This man appeared as well-mannered as someone could be, but he was so obviously done with Sam that he might as well have told him to 'get the fuck out.' The three of them knew well enough that Blaine was in no real hurry to learn about his new situation, but they all acted as if something was on fire. Thus, Sam gave them one last nod and left.

Kurt tried to look discreetly out of the window as the police officer walked to the car, but Blaine caught him. The man felt Blaine's eyes and sat down in his previous spot, flashing him a short smile.

Blaine didn't like him. He was polite. And he also seemed sweet. He smiled a lot. Yet something felt off. He was _too_ polite. His smile didn't reach his eyes. It was all fake.

He shook his head, watching Sam's car drive away. He was imagining things. Of course this Kurt guy was all those things. It meant working, being professional. Blaine knew better than anyone that masks were necessary at any job. This had to be Kurt's.

Kurt checked his wristwatch. "I'll give it another five minutes and then we can leave."

"Leave?" Blaine frowned. "Where are we going?"

"To another safe house, the one we will be staying at," Kurt said. "Too many people know about this place. The driver and Officer Evans," he explained, seeing Blaine's confusion. "I know you probably want to trust him but–"

Blaine shook his head. "Not really. I don't know him well. It was just…"

"Comforting having someone you know here?" Kurt offered when Blaine lost his words. The man nodded. "I've worked in witness protection for a while now, and I haven't seen anyone who wasn't scared, to be honest. Being uprooted from your life is hard. Especially for you."

"Why me?" Blaine frowned. He didn't feel special in any way.

"Normally it takes weeks to arrange witness protection, and these witnesses are aware that soon they might be asked to move away from their homes. You were told you were coming here only a few hours ago, then taken home straight away to collect your belongings."

"Why didn't I have to wait?"

"Simple: the Changs and the murder attempt," Kurt shrugged, checking his watch again.

"I know they are some crime family, but why is everyone freaking out about them so much?"

"Let's just say, their crime witnesses don't live long," Kurt said and stood up. "I think it's safe to leave now. Please, grab your bag and then we will go to the garage where my car is waiting."

"I left it by the front door," Blaine said, looking around. There were two doors leading out of the room, but he couldn't remember which one they came in through.

"This way," Kurt said, and left the room first after turning the lights off, Blaine following him closely.

The bag had been moved, Blaine noticed as soon as he saw it. It was either Sam's doing, or someone else had very silently gone through his stuff while Kurt had distracted them. Either way, he decided not to tell Kurt about his revelation and pretend that everything was fine. He threw the bag over his left shoulder and trailed behind the special agent into the garage. As promised, there was a car there.

"It's a half hour drive, give or take, so you can lie down on the back seat if you want," Kurt offered, seeing Blaine opening the front passenger door.

"I'm okay," Blaine said, blushing at the indirect comment about his abused ass, and took a seat by Kurt's side with the bag resting on his knees.

"The other house is nicer actually," Kurt's voice filled the silent car as he started the engine. "It's smaller, but that only makes it cosier in my eyes. Two people don't need many rooms, right?"

"No, they don't…"

"Mhm. And it's also lighter, the walls in the rooms, I mean. I don't like dark walls. I was once working in this horrid house painted in such dark colours it almost gave me depression."

"Oh..."

"The report I received said you didn't have the best living conditions, so it will be a nice change. I'm sure you will like it."

"Yeah…"

"Am I bothering you?" Kurt asked, stopping at the red light. "Because I can stop talking if you want. I just thought you might appreciate a distraction."

"I'm sorry, Agent Hummel, but reminding me about my shitty apartment isn't doing a good job of distracting me," Blaine said, wishing he could have restrained himself from snapping. After all, they were set to live together and he didn't even know for how long.

Blaine could feel Kurt's eyes on him for a moment, but didn't look at him. "I could tell you about this one time my step-brother set our Christmas tree on fire."

"Or maybe you could tell me about all this?" Blaine asked getting impatient. He didn't know where it came from, but his hands started shaking slightly and this time not from nerves. "You called me your husband and explained nothing. I don't want to be kept in the dark anymore."

"I know it's irritating, but I have to follow the protocol–"

"And revealing the whole husband thing in front of Sam was following protocol?"

"No, I mean, not really, I just–" Kurt got visibly flustered. Blaine almost enjoyed it.

"Tell me about the Christmas tree," he cut the man off, having no wish to listen to his excuses.

"Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Why don't we start over and introduce ourselves?" he asked, and when he didn't get a response, continued, "My name is Kurt Hummel, I'm twenty eight. I've been with U.S. Marshals since graduation, so for five years now. Spent the last three years specializing in witness protection. Now, your turn."

Blaine rolled his eyes, but responded nevertheless. "I'm Blaine Anderson, twenty three. Been a whore since sixteen, so seven years now. Specializing in blowjobs and spreading my legs for men to fuck my hole. Pleasure to meet you."

"You shouldn't call yourself that."

"And you shouldn't act like you want to be friends," Blaine retorted.

He had no idea why he suddenly felt so defensive, since Kurt didn't seem to be attacking him in any way or form. On the contrary, the man was kind to him.

"I'll shut up then."

"Good."

And then it was finally silent except for the engine's hum. Blaine closed his eyes and focused on the sound. He was almost asleep by the time they arrived.

"Home sweet home," Kurt attempted a smile when he stopped the car by a house almost identical to the previous one, just a little smaller. "Once we are inside I will tell you as much as I'm allowed to."

"So not everything?" Blaine asked, climbing out of the car.

"There is no need for you to know everything. I'm sorry but it's–"

"Let me guess, protocol?" Blaine scoffed.

"We'll continue inside," Kurt whispered, looking around as they walked over to the house. Blaine just rolled his eyes.

Kurt unlocked the door and turned the lights on. The layout of the house didn't seem to be much different from the first sight, but, Blaine almost smiled, the walls were painted in lighter colours as far as he could tell.

"I'll go take a look around. Stay here," Kurt said after locking the door, and for the first time revealed the gun underneath his jacket. "It's just a precaution, nothing to worry about."

As soon as the man was out of sight, Blaine put his bag on the ground and looked around. This was his new home now.

Deep in his thoughts, Blaine nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the doorbell shriek right above his head. Through the side window he could see a shadow, but not who was standing there.

His heart sped up.

It could be _them_. Coming here to finally finish him off.

They wouldn't ring the bell, a small voice in his head reminded him.

There was only one way to find out. He opened the door before he could talk himself into a panic attack.

"Hi, cutie," a young woman dressed all in pink smiled widely at him. She wore a heart necklace and had a large matching heart in her hair. It weirdly suited her. "There has been talk on the street that someone was finally moving in, and when I saw you arriving tonight I thought I would skip the pilates I do before bed and come say hi," she said pushing past Blaine and into the house. Only then he noticed a box in her hands.

"I… it's nice of you, but it's not the best time, you see, we just moved in and–," Blaine hurried after her as the woman made her way into the kitchen as if she knew the house already.

"I brought you a cake," she said as she set the box on the table. "It's like four days old, but maybe it's still okay. I bought it for a friend's birthday party, but she cancelled the whole thing, so I thought I would keep it, but I'm on a diet so…"

"Uh, thanks, it's very nice of you…" Blaine said, lost. He kept glancing at the door, hoping for Kurt to come in and save him.

"I didn't catch your name?" the woman asked, looking expectantly at him.

"I…"

"Hey there!" Finally Kurt appeared, wearing the brightest smile. "Who do we have here, honey?" he asked, wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist. It felt surprisingly nice.

"I'm Sugar Motta, your neighbour from across the street," she said and extended her hand.

Kurt shook it politely, his left hand firmly on Blaine's belly. "I'm Kevin Thompson. And this is my husband, Brian Thompson."

"Hi," Blaine managed.

"Are you okay?" Sugar asked with one eyebrow raised.

"Brian isn't much into PDA. Sorry, honey," Kurt said as he released Blaine and moved to his side. "We moved here from Ohio so it's still new for us to be, you know, publicly together."

"Oh, well, you don't have to worry about me, I love gays. And I don't mean that disrespectfully. They are just very cute for me. I could keep one as a pet," she said, and laughed, seeing their shocked faces. "Just joking, come on, don't be so sensitive. Tell you what, tomorrow I'm having a street party where everyone is invited, so you should totally come. Bring some wine," she winked at them and without another word walked out.

They heard the front door opening and then closing. Blaine watched Sugar walking down the dimly lit street and into the biggest house on the block.

"She is intense–" Blaine began as he put the cake into the fridge. He noted that it was stocked with essentials.

"What were you thinking?" Blaine flinched when suddenly Kurt started yelling. "America's most powerful crime family probably has a bounty on your head already, and you are opening the doors the minute after you walk into the safe house? You almost blew our cover! What would have you said if she had started asking personal questions? You didn't even know your new name! Damn, you need to be more careful!"

Blaine gaped at the man before he gathered his thoughts. "She saw us arriving and came over to introduce herself. Should have I ignored the doorbell and pretended we were not here?"

"You could have waited for me to come open the door. I'm here to protect you. How am I supposed to do that when you go out of your way to sabotage it?"

"Am I a prisoner here, then?" Blaine challenged him and crossed his arms over his chest.

Kurt frowned, visibly taken back by the question. "What? No."

"But if I want to open the door, I can't? And if I want to go outside? Or talk to someone? Will you be by my side twenty-four/seven?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "How about we calm down and I'll tell you everything you need to know, and then we will set some ground rules. Everything will be clear then."

"Where do you want to –"

"Living room?" Kurt suggested, and showed him the way. The layout was really almost the same, Blaine noted as he carefully lowered himself onto the couch. "First of all, I'm sorry I yelled at you; it was very unprofessional of me. I only got… upset because you talked to a stranger without knowing your new identity. We would have had to try to get another safe house if you had told her your real name or acted suspiciously. It's not about locking you up and constraining your freedom. It's just that witness protection is not just me being your bodyguard. It's more complicated than that."

"I get it, I think," Blaine said, nodding slowly.

"Apology accepted then?" Kurt asked hopefully.

"Yes, we are… good," Blaine offered in return. "As long as you tell me what you expect from me and, you know, don't yell at me for not knowing the things you haven't told me yet."

"Point taken. I'm normally more composed, but this case came up suddenly and I barely had time to prepare, so I'm a bit edgy. It's also well after midnight, and I haven't had much sleep. I know these are poor excuses, but I hope you won't start hating me just yet."

"Like I've said, we are good," Blaine assured him, yawning. As soon as Kurt mentioned sleep, he felt his eyes getting heavier by the second. "But, I'm also tired. Maybe we could do this whole ground rules thing in the morning?"

"Hm? I thought you wanted to know what your life is going to be like here, and maybe something about Brian Thompson?"

"I did, I do, but I think it would all just fly over my head right now. And I already know that Brian doesn't like PDA, what more is there to know?"

Kurt laughed and looked at him sort of fondly. "Fine, if you are sure about it. I'm sure you've had a stressful day and could use some rest. There is nothing we can't talk about tomorrow. As long as you don't open doors to more strangers before we get to talk about things."

"I promise," Blaine said, standing up. "Um, do you know if there are any towels in the house? I didn't pack mine and I really want to take a shower before bed."

"The house is equipped with essentials so there should be towels, toothpaste and the like. We can go shopping for what we lack," Kurt explained. They walked upstairs, Blaine grabbing his bag on the way. "There is a master bedroom with a bathroom, a guest room, and a separate bathroom upstairs. I'll be staying in the guest room, but we will have to make sure the master bedroom looks like we both sleep there, in case someone comes snooping."

"Sugar looks like someone who would do that," Blaine said when Kurt opened the door to what, he decided, was the master bedroom.

The room was almost twice the size of his old apartment and was tastefully decorated. There were paintings on the light grey walls and a ceiling lamp that fit nicely with the furniture. Blaine saw a reading light by the bed and wondered if he would be allowed to check out some books from a local library.

"My room is right across yours," Kurt said. "If you need anything, come get me or just shout for me. Other than that, have a good night."

"Goodnight," Blaine said, and the doors were closed, and he was alone, at last.

Blaine put his bag on the bed and opened it. He didn't know what he expected to find, but the memory of his misplaced bag had been bugging him since they'd left the first safe house, and now he finally had a chance to look into it without Kurt's eyes on him. He didn't need to look deep; he immediately noticed what didn't belong to him.

Blaine dug into the bag and took out Sam's business card issued by the Chicago Police Department. He turned it around in his fingers and saw a phone number and a note, 'text me,' in hurried handwriting. Even though he didn't plan on texting the officer any time soon, the card stayed inside the bag. Just in case.

There was no energy left in him to unpack, so Blaine simply closed the bag and put it on a chair by the bed. He knew he should probably worry about not having packed many clothes, or at least about hiding the cash and jewellery he had with him, but he left those thoughts behind when he entered the ensuite bathroom.

Just like Kurt had predicted, it had everything he needed, from towels to toothbrushes, from shower gel to toothpaste. In no time he was standing under a hot water stream, letting it wash his worries away.

Fifteen minutes were spent just standing there, doing nothing, thinking of nothing. Only when he felt like falling asleep right there and then, Blaine picked up a bottle of shampoo and began cleaning himself up for real. It took another twenty minutes before he was satisfied.

His hair was still dripping wet by the time he walked out of the bathroom and into his temporary bedroom. Without giving it another thought, Blaine locked the bedroom door, turned the light off, and fell onto the bed naked, his hair soaking the pillow immediately. He didn't care. He just threw the blanket over his warmed-up body and closed his eyes, welcoming the sleep.

But it never came. One second he was drained, hardly able to keep his eyes open. Next, thoughts were running rampant.

He tried to lull himself by imagining one of his favourite stories. In this one he was a powerful wizard whose mission was to save a handsome stranger from a demon. He couldn't hold the image for long, because another, a much stronger one, surfaced whenever he lost control. And one image led another until it was too much to handle.

He saw his client killed. Travis didn't pay, so he hardly had any money left, he should go out to earn more. But the mafia was looking for him. Maybe he could get away with blowing the killer once in a while, he couldn't speak with cock in his mouth. He couldn't speak with food in his mouth either. He couldn't afford food. He just needed money. He could proposition Kurt; the agent would get lonely babysitting him all the time. No, he looked too decent for that. That married college professor had also looked decent, but had fucked him like nobody's business anyway. If only he could attend college. If only he could graduate high school first. If only he had stayed home instead of running away.

"Urgh," Blaine growled into his hands, getting out of bed. He had been so exhausted he could have fallen asleep in the shower, and now he felt like he could move mountains. At least his mind could.

He needed a distraction. Something that could stop his thoughts from wandering into dangerous waters. Lying there in the bed in the darkness did nothing for his mental wellbeing; he needed to get out. A cup of tea sounded like a good idea. He hoped to find some in the kitchen.

After stroking the wall for a good minute he turned the light on. He almost laughed at himself for doing it the hard way. He had forgotten about the reading light that would have been much easier to switch on.

He fished a pair of clean underwear out of his bag and put it on. He didn't bother with any other piece of clothing.

The door didn't move when Blaine carefully pulled it. He tried harder, but nothing happened. He almost panicked until the memory of subconsciously locking the door before going to bed came back to him. It didn't take long for him to free himself at last, but it took some time to descend the stairs in the dark, unfamiliar house.

In the kitchen, Blaine went through several cupboards until he found a box of fruit tea. Glad it wasn't green tea that wouldn't let him sleep, he set it aside and went to boil the water. Not long after, he had a cup of tea steaming in his hands. He inhaled deeply and relished the smell.

Ready to go back to the bedroom, Blaine turned around just as Kurt appeared in the doorway. He jumped and dropped the cup, backing away until he hit the counter. Kurt, now wearing pyjamas, was pointing a gun at him.

"Shit, sorry," the agent apologised quickly, putting the gun away on the table. "I thought someone broke in."

"It's okay… I'm just not fond of guns," he panted, taking deep breaths in attempt to slow down his frantically beating heart.

"Of course you're not. Sorry again. I woke up and heard something downstairs, and since you were exhausted I thought you would be fast asleep."

"You were just doing your job," Blaine said, and looked down to see the mess on the floor. "Do you know if we have anything to clean this with?"

"I'll check," Kurt said, and moved from cupboard to cupboard, looking for cleaning supplies. In the meantime, Blaine collected the broken pieces. "I found a cloth we could use to wash the floor with."

"Good," Blaine said, throwing away the shards. He walked up to Kurt and took the cloth from his hands.

"I can do it, I'm the reason you dropped it," Kurt offered.

"It's okay, it's my mess after all," Blaine said, and went to clean the spilled tea.

As soon as Blaine turned around and ducked to clean up the mess, he heard a gasp coming from Kurt. "Holy shit, your back," he whispered. "I've read the report, but this… I didn't expect it to be this bad."

"It's just some bruises," Blaine tried to sound as nonchalant as he could. "A couple of days and it will go back to normal," he mumbled as he stood up to wring the soaked cloth into the sink.

"I have some ointment that helps with healing. Also, some painkillers."

"It's not as bad as it looks," Blaine lied, returning to the wet floor.

He could feel Kurt's eyes on him for a while longer, but soon enough he turned around and walked away. In a moment of weakness, Blaine wished he hadn't. It felt weirdly nice having him there to keep him company. But, as soon as the agent was back, he wished he was left alone. He no longer knew what he wanted anymore.

"I brought the ointment. I know you said you didn't want it, but please let me help. I'll only take a couple of minutes," Kurt said, toying with the tube in his hands.

"Can I at least get a cup of tea first?" Blaine sighed, defeated.

"Absolutely. Could you boil more water, please? I'd love some tea as well."

Blaine nodded and refilled the electric kettle, making sure there would be enough for two cups.

"So, why aren't you asleep? It's pretty late," Kurt asked while waiting for the water to boil.

"Couldn't fall asleep," Blaine gave him the obvious reason.

"Well, I see that. What kept you awake?" he pried again.

"Had lots on my mind," Blaine shrugged it off.

"After the first murder I witnessed, I couldn't eat for days, and I kept having nightmares for even longer," Kurt began. Blaine looked at him, curious. "It was scary. Every time I closed my eyes I saw what had happened. Everything reminded me of it. There was a couch in the room where it happened and if I saw a bed I would think of a couch and then it would lead me to thinking of the murder. It sucked, but it got better. It will get better for you, too."

"When?" Blaine asked.

"I have no idea. It differs. It may take a few weeks, a few months even. And after several years you might get a nightmare here and there. But it will soon stop controlling you like it's doing right now. And you know, the first days, and especially nights, are always the worst. Just know that you can come to me and I will try to help."

"Why would I come to _you_?" he scoffed.

"Because I'm here, I'm trained, and I care. And also… I know you wanted to talk about it tomorrow and we will, but I can tell you one thing now. I don't work on short-term cases," he said, eliciting a frown from Blaine. "The shortest period I spent with a witness was six months. So I would really like for us to get on well or at least try to tolerate each other, because we will most likely be spending a lot of time together."

"Half a year? Are you serious?" Blaine gaped, ignoring the electric kettle that had announced that the water was ready.

"Yes, and it might be longer; it's never certain how long it will take. Mike Chang could be caught today and taken to court in a couple of weeks, or he might be free for another year. Nobody knows. And it's not like you could talk to some therapist about it because you are Brian Thompson now."

Blaine didn't know what to say. Months spent living under protection with the special agent by his side all the time didn't sound tempting at all. He didn't have money and he doubted Kurt would be okay with him going out on his own to find clients.

He turned around and poured hot water into two cups filled with tea leaves. "Sugar?"

"No, thanks," Kurt said, and accepted the cup with another thank you.

Blaine stood at the counter and sipped the hot drink, immediately regretting it as he burned his tongue. "What happened with the Christmas tree and your brother?"

"You want to hear the story?" Kurt looked up with a hopeful smile.

"Well, if we are really stuck here for so long then I'd rather be friends with you than enemies," Blaine shrugged.

"I'm glad to hear that. It's much more difficult to work with hostile witnesses. I mean, I'm just doing my job, no need to take your frustration out on me."

"Do people do that often?"

"Not really. At least not at first," he said, and Blaine gave him a questioning look. "As I've explained, people normally are aware they are about to enter witness protection. So they are okay at first. But soon they get frustrated because they can rarely leave without supervision and they can't make contact with anyone they know. No friends, no family. Phone calls, emails, physical mail, it's all forbidden. If you contact anyone, you are risking your life, their lives, and the life of the agent or agents in charge of your safety."

"Wait, you said I wasn't a prisoner here and just now you said I will rarely leave the house without you. You contradict yourself."

"Not really. Look, it depends on a case. Usually, if a criminal knows what the witness looks like, it's strictly banned for them to leave without someone supervising. In your case it seems that they know who you are and what you look like. That's why we don't recommend you to wander off alone. It's your life that's in danger."

Blaine nodded in understanding. "Makes sense, sorry I lashed out," he said, and carefully sipped his drink.

"Your emotions must be all over the place. I'm sure you will feel better when you know what you are in for."

"You are right. Tomorrow."

"Yes, tomorrow we are having a lengthy conversation."

"Definitely. So… what do I call you? Agent Hummel or…?" Blaine asked, looking at the man expectantly.

Kurt swallowed his tea and answered quickly. "Call me Kurt when we are alone. We are living together after all. It's always good to get rid of unnecessary formality. Though I can call you whatever makes you comfortable."

"Blaine is fine."

"Brilliant. So, Blaine, what do you want to do after we finish tea?" Kurt asked cheerfully.

"Hm?"

"You said you had lots on your mind, so I assume you could use a distraction," Kurt explained. "A movie maybe?"

"Sure, why not. I can't sleep anyway. But, you don't have to stay with me. You can go to sleep if you want. You said you hadn't slept well last night. I would hate to steal sleep from you."

"I'm wide awake now, so I'd rather keep you company than lie in bed doing nothing," Kurt said. "I find it difficult to fall back asleep once I wake up. Unless you'd rather be alone. Just let me know and I'll be out of your way for the night."

"We can watch a movie together, I don't mind."

"Then we have a plan. Finish tea, tend your back, and watch a movie. Not exactly how I imagined the first night to go, but it doesn't sound bad, not at all… And it's not like we have to get up early tomorrow, right?" Kurt babbled. Blaine wondered at his sudden awkwardness.

He didn't comment, just took a few large gulps, emptying his teacup. "I'm done," he said, and watched as Kurt walked to the sink, grabbing Blaine's cup on his way.

"Perfect timing, I'm finished as well," Kurt said. "Let's save the washing for tomorrow."

"I can wash them now," Blaine protested, trying to suppress a yawn. His eyes were starting to feel heavy again.

Kurt put the cups into the sink and turned around. "No, what you need to do is lie on the couch on your stomach and let me help you."

"You are the boss," Blaine smiled, and followed Kurt into the living room. He lay down on the couch and Kurt handed him a cushion to put his head on. "Thanks."

Kurt knelt by his side, ready to tend his back. He took a good look first and only then spoke.

"The skin is slightly broken here," he said touching the spot in question tenderly, "so it might sting a little, but I promise I'll be gentle," he assured him, unscrewing the tube.

"Mm, thanks," Blaine mumbled sleepily.

"It always fazes me how a human being can do something like this to another," Kurt said as he started to spread the ointment on his back. Blaine winced as he felt a light burn at the first touch. "Sorry," Kurt apologised, but kept going nevertheless.

"It's okay, I've had worse."

"It's not the first time?" Kurt asked, surprised.

"No, but never this," Blaine stopped midsentence as a yawn took over his mouth, "much."

"Why did you let that happen?"

"The money. Pays well. Sucked this time, though," Blaine said, snuggling into the cushion.

"Why?"

"Can't pay when you're dead," Blaine explained, enjoying the numbness on his back as the ointment began to cool the skin. He closed his eyes because the light was becoming irritating.

"Well, at least now you have a chance not only to heal, but to stay away from your… profession. You won't need to work while you are in witness protection," Kurt assured him, and Blaine thought he heard sympathy in his voice.

"So nice," he said, but he wasn't thinking about the time off from his job. All he could think of was Kurt's fingers dancing on his back, gently, soothing his skin.

"Um, the marks go under your underwear, so maybe you could take care of that later? It would be inappropriate if I–"

Blaine made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. At least he thought he did. He wasn't sure.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for all the love you are sending to me in your comments! You are the best!**_


	5. Ch IV: OF HUSBANDS AND NEIGHBOURS I

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by _heartstringsduet_ (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by _47mel47_ (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** **lyingxiscariot** (FFnet), **FangirlingFanatic** (FFnet), and **stulti**.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Weekly on Sundays or Mondays

* * *

 **CHAPTER IV: OF HUSBANDS AND NEIGHBOURS I**

Something startled him. Blaine wasn't sure what it was, a loud noise perhaps. He jumped from the couch and felt some soft material falling off him. He looked down to see a blanket at his feet. It was too light in the room. A glance at the window told him it was morning already.

"Sorry, dropped the spoon," he heard Kurt's voice and saw him in the kitchen. "I was about to have cereal for breakfast. You want some?"

"Yeah," Blaine responded groggily, and cleared his throat. "I'll just use the bathroom real quick."

"No rush," Kurt assured him, and went back to whatever he was doing.

Blaine's muscles were stiff from lying in a single position through the night, and it didn't help that stretching caused more pain as the bruises on his back were pulled. On his way upstairs, Blaine didn't miss Kurt's blush as the man turned away from him as quickly as he could. He had no idea what it was about until he saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Of course he had a morning erection, and of course he had to be too sleepy to notice it. No wonder Kurt looked uncomfortable.

After he was done taking care of his body's needs and brushing his teeth, he stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself intently.

"Everything is going to be fine," he whispered to himself. "You are in good hands; Kurt is nice. Being scared won't change anything. Have courage. Everything will be okay. You will be okay."

He wasn't completely satisfied with the pep talk, but he didn't have time for a more elaborate one. He didn't want Kurt coming to check up on him, so he put some clothes on and went to the kitchen, this time all decent.

"There is only one brand of cereal here; we can buy something else later," Kurt said as soon as he walked in, and pushed the box and the milk container toward him.

"I don't exactly have much cash on me," Blaine said, ignoring the food. "Unless you are okay with me working nights. Some clients might be turned on by you supervising me," he smirked, curious to see Kurt's reaction.

"Clients… you mean, like… um, no, it won't be necessary," Kurt swallowed thickly and forced a smile. "We are taking care of the witnesses in many ways. Sometimes it is not possible for them to contribute financially and that's okay. There is a special fund for that."

"If only tax payers knew that their money was being wasted to protect a whore," Blaine laughed, trying to conceal his relief. He knew he wouldn't have lots of time off, but knowing that he wouldn't have to worry about food or rent until his back healed was some really good news. When his body was presentable enough, he could think of a way to work around Kurt so he could go and earn his keep.

"Your profession doesn't matter. The money is spent fighting the Chang family. It's worth the price. And if it includes protecting a person who happens to sell sex? So be it."

"You have to admit, not many people would be happy with that explanation."

"Then it's good that we don't owe them an explanation," Kurt smiled. "Go on, have some breakfast and then we can have the talk."

"What if I did something else? Instead of fucking. Brian Thompson must have a better background than me," Blaine said, preparing breakfast for himself. "Maybe I could find a job waiting tables or something like that?"

"With your husband staying with you the entire shift? Not suspicious at all."

"It could be something else. I just want to contribute," Blaine said, and it was truth. He didn't want to spend someone else's money so he could live a comfortable life.

"Hm, maybe we can think of something later. But let's not rush into things, okay?"

"Okay," Blaine said, standing with a bowl of cereal. "Thanks for last night. The ointment and the blanket and stuff."

"No problem. You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you up, but couldn't leave you there in your undies only. Did you sleep well?"

"I did," Blaine said. Surprisingly, he had had no nightmares and felt rested. "You?"

"Couldn't fall asleep after I ran into you. Don't apologise," he said when he saw Blaine opening his mouth. "I went through our back story again and improved it. I didn't have much time to prepare it yesterday, but now it's much better."

"Still sorry for waking you up."

"Your unnecessary apology is accepted," Kurt smiled at him. "I'll go get the folders and I'll meet you in the living room when you are finished, alright?"

Blaine only nodded, as his mouth was full.

Five minutes later, he found himself in the living room, folding the blanket, when Kurt walked in with two folders in his hands. He put one on the table and handed the other to Blaine. They settled comfortably ready to talk.

"Shall we begin?" Kurt asked. Blaine nodded. "Okay. So, there are two types of witness protection – short-term and long-term. Short-term requires a twenty-four/seven bodyguard, usually takes up to a week, and the witness can't leave the premises. It's a less complicated version, usually chosen when a trial is very soon.

"Now, the long-term protection can take months, sometimes years in complicated cases. The witness is moved away from the immediate threat, sometimes even abroad. They are given a new identity and, you could say, start a temporary life, waiting until it's safe to go back home."

"I'm guessing this is a long-term thing? You said something about six months?" Blaine asked, flipping through the pages, not really reading anything.

"I'm afraid so. The Changs have been on our radar for several years now, but it's been difficult to prove anything, even though at times it seemed there was no way out for them. At least that's how I was briefed. However, this time everyone is hopeful that justice will soon be served, so I wouldn't be worried about staying here for too long."

"Easy for you to say…"

"To tell you the truth, I don't like monotony, so I wouldn't want to stay working on one case for five years," Kurt admitted.

"But isn't it hard to move from place to place and, like, have new roommates that you can't pick all the time? That you also have to babysit?"

"Not really," Kurt answered, after a moment of silence. "Normally, people I worked with were well aware of the danger they were in, so they mostly kept to themselves and rarely wanted to leave the house. This one guy once stayed two months indoors. That was the most difficult case for me because I stayed with him the whole time. I got even paler, if you can believe that."

But Blaine didn't care about the special agent's skin. Something else had caught his attention. "So wait, you would let me to go out? I know I keep asking about this, but it's kind of driving me crazy."

"You will be able to go out, yes. At first I wouldn't want you going out on your own, but depending on the situation it might be okay for you to go somewhere alone after a while," Kurt said, but it was obvious he wasn't promising anything.

"But it would make your job easier if I didn't," Blaine didn't need to ask.

"As a matter of fact, yes. We will talk about this when we know more about how safe it is for you to wander off. I would hate to tell you that in a month you will be free to go wherever, and then later take it back."

"Alright, but as soon as you know it's safe for me–"

"I will tell you immediately," Kurt didn't let him finish. "So, next… your new identity. We needed something that would easily explain why we are home most of the time. Brian Thompson, that's you, is a twenty-three-year-old kindergarten teacher who lost his job when his school closed. He couldn't find a new job, mostly because of his lack of experience. It's the end of August and everywhere is filled, so it won't raise many questions. Brian's husband Kevin is a twenty-eight-year-old freelancer writing for fashion magazines, so obviously, he works from home."

"Why fashion magazines?" Blaine asked. He had noticed that Kurt had a good taste in clothing - even his pyjamas had some famous brand logo - but he couldn't imagine someone from law enforcement having passion for fashion.

"I had to put something together quickly and I was always interested in fashion, so if anyone asks me about my job I'll be able to respond easily. I usually choose some sort of writing job for my aliases."

"What about me? It's not like I have experience working with kids," Blaine questioned. He doubted that babysitting his neighbours' daughter a couple of times counted.

"There is a more detailed backstory in the folder you can look through. It has info on your previous workplace, the syllabus you taught, even your favourite students. If you memorize it, you won't have much trouble answering questions."

"Okay… I'm not so bad with kids," Blaine said.

"Great to hear that," Kurt grinned. "It's very important that we go through the Thompson love story. People tend to ask questions about relationships a lot. The backstory is very simple. We met through mutual friends, hit it off, blah blah blah, got together, Kevin proposed over a romantic dinner, boom – wedding. Moved here not long after."

"Kevin is lame. He should have thought of a better way to propose than dinner," Blaine said, unimpressed, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, well, it will be easier for us to remember a boring story."

"Still lame…"

"Are you okay?" Kurt looked at him worriedly. His change of mood must have confused him.

"I am, but it's a lot to take in," he sighed. "My life just turned around and now I'm this Brian guy with a lame husband."

"Hey, Kevin is not that bad," Kurt pouted.

"I don't think I believe you… I think you are biased."

"Well, he once surprised Brian with a Caribbean cruise. He likes rock climbing and skydiving. He… volunteers at an animal shelter. He–"

"Fine, fine, he is the coolest guy ever," Blaine said, rolling his eyes playfully.

"We can make them whatever we want. Well, _reasonably_ whatever we want. If it's not a vital part of the story, like education or previous jobs, we can shape Brian and Kevin into what we want. Let your imagination run free."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"We just need to make sure that we are always on the same page. We need to update each other on everything personal that we share with strangers, so we don't mess it up. It's easy to get lost in lies," Kurt said, opening the folder in front of Blaine. "See, on every page there is enough space to add comments, so you can do that."

"Okay, so I have to memorize everything from this folder, and if I want to add anything I'll let you know."

"Sounds like a plan. And if you see something you don't like, we can discuss changing it, unless I have already told someone else about it. Then there is no way back. But know that I'm open for discussion."

"Thanks," Blaine smiled sincerely. He didn't have much control over this situation, and the little freedom that was given to him made him grateful. "Should we go shopping first, or can I begin to study the info?"

"I'd like to get shopping out of the way first, if that's okay with you. I don't think we will need to interact with anyone who would ask personal questions anyway," Kurt said and closed the folder.

"Fine by me. We don't have much time though, so we need to hurry if we want to memorize everything by the evening."

"Why by the evening?"

"The street party Sugar invited us to? If I'm to live here for months, I'd rather be on our neighbours' good side. So I think we should accept the invitation."

"I don't know…" Kurt said slowly, contemplating the idea.

"Look, I think it's a good opportunity to get it over with," Blaine reasoned. "If we go to the party we can just tell everyone our story and be done with it. We'll be less likely to tell different facts to different people if we do it over one evening."

"You have a point. I, myself, like to make new friends, even if temporarily."

"I'll need time to memorize the whole thing, so we'd better get going if you are ready? I will need to buy some clothes as well," Blaine said just a little bit too merrily.

"Yeah, sure. I like your new attitude, you know. I was afraid you might be… not like this," Kurt said with a smile and stood up.

"What happened was traumatizing, but I can't let it control me. Sam actually gave me a good advice on the way here. He said I have no say in what the Changs do or don't do, so worrying about it won't change anything. After a good night's rest, I think he is right. I need to make the most of the circumstances. If someone does come to kill me, I will deal with it then. So yeah, I won't let some criminal rule my life more than he already does," Blaine said as if it was the most obvious thing.

"That's really inspiring, you know," said Kurt as they walked to their bedrooms to get ready. "It's not easy to be this positive in such situations. I hope you keep this outlook."

"Positivity always helped me when times got hard."

They parted ways then, and even though it seemed that Kurt was about to ask something, Blaine went inside, not giving him an opportunity.

The shopping trip took over two hours, the visit to the thrift shop taking up most of the time. Blaine should have had a bad feeling when Kurt had had mentioned his love for fashion. If he had been alone, he would have taken the first cheap items that fit him and been done with it. With Kurt, however, he had to choose things that could later be coordinated into full outfits. By the end of it Blaine felt exhausted.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed himself, though. Kurt was fun to hang out with. He was sweet and had a great sense of humour. He didn't fail to make him laugh and on more than one occasion, Blaine forgot that they weren't just friends on a shopping trip. It was weird how easy he could envision being friends with the man, even though he hadn't had any for years.

Back in his new bedroom, Blaine put the new clothes in the closet neatly and found the old phone he had purchased. With his device left at Travis', he had to buy a new one.

When the phone was ready, he texted Sam to ask about his belongings and thank him again for helping him out. He knew he wasn't supposed to contact anyone from his old life, but one message couldn't hurt, especially since Sam was a police officer. Blaine just needed to keep it secret from Kurt and everything would be fine.

Later, he found himself lying on the couch in the living room while Kurt occupied the armchair. They had been reading and memorizing their backstory for hours, and it was more difficult than Blaine had expected. There were too many small, pointless details to remember.

"When exactly is the party?" Kurt asked, turning a page.

"She didn't say. Only that it was today," Blaine said, studying Brian and Kevin's family tree.

"Hm, maybe she will come around to let us know…"

"Just keep an eye on the window. When people start arriving, we can go as well," Blaine said, absentmindedly looking at a lonely branch that was Brian's.

"I've been doing that for a while. I'm tired of all this reading. Do you want anything to drink?" Kurt asked, going to the kitchen.

"No, thanks. Hey, is it okay if Brian has a brother?"

"Can't see why not. Add a description in my folder as well, okay?"

"Sure. I just need to think of a cool story first… Maybe a fire-fighter with scarred face after he saved a bunch of people during the fire. How does that sound?"

"And what are you going to say if people ask for a photo?"

"I'll say it's a new phone and I don't have his photo. I also don't have a laptop, so I don't have any pictures there, and he is also not on social networks because he doesn't like the concept. Easy peasy."

"You are good at thinking on a spot. Fine, add this scarred fire-fighter to the folder. Sure you don't want anything from the kitchen?"

"I'm good, thanks. His name is Coo…ney. Yup, Cooney Thomp… hey, was Thompson Kevin's last name or Brian's before the wedding?" Blaine asked, skimming the pages, trying to look for an answer.

"It's not in the file?"

"Not that I can see," Blaine said, looking through the profile page now.

"Whichever is fine. Just–"

"Add in the folder. I've got this," he said, sitting up to grab a pen from the table. "Let's say it was Brian's so I don't need another last name for Cooney. Oh, and what was Kevin's last name, then?"

"I don't know, Smith?"

"Smith? I thought we were past lame-Kevin, Kurt…"

"What's wrong with Smith? It's a nice last name."

"Suit yourself," Blaine said, writing down Kevin's last name. He looked up just in time to see Kurt coming back with a glass of milk. "I see we are not past lame- _Kurt_ ," Blaine smirked teasingly.

"There is nothing wrong with drinking milk. It's rich in calcium. You should have a glass from time to time," Kurt said, sitting down in his original spot.

"Sounds like something a lame person would say."

"I take it you like the word 'lame' a lot, huh?"

"I just enjoy seeing you getting defensive, and it seems that 'lame' is working perfectly to get this reaction from you," Blaine shrugged.

"I think I liked you better when you were worried about crime families, your life, and such. You were less of an ass," Kurt said in a serious voice.

Blaine straightened in his seat, suddenly worried he had stepped out of the line. "Oh, I'm very sorry, I was just teasing…" he apologised genuinely.

"Me too," Kurt smirked mischievously.

"Now you are an ass," Blaine pouted, relieved he wasn't in trouble, and threw a cushion at him.

Kurt easily caught it and laughed. "Well, you deserved it."

"Um, can't argue with that."

Kurt chuckled and looked through the window. "I think people are beginning to gather at Sugar's. Should we go as well?"

"Okay, but test me first," Blaine said, closing the file.

"Alright. Who is the best husband in the whole wide world?"

"Easy, it's me, Brian Thompson," he grinned. "Second question?"

"Which college did Brian attend?"

"Ohio State University."

"Who was his first boyfriend?" Kurt asked, and Blaine quirked his eyebrow. There was no such info in the file.

"Oh, I'd rather not talk about it. It was long time ago and I don't want to make Kevin uncomfortable. He is a jealous type."

"I think you are ready. I'll go grab wine from the fridge."

"And I'll go change into those insanely tight pants you picked out for me," Blaine whined, standing up.

"They look good on you. So what if they are tighter than those hideous sweatpants we wear at home?"

"If by the end of the evening I need to get my legs amputated, it's on you."

"Drama queen," he heard Kurt muttering from the kitchen, and laughed to himself.

Upstairs, he quickly changed into a new outfit and gelled his wild curls into a helmet, which was part of Kurt's 'look as different from your normal self as you can' plan. He looked at himself in the mirror before leaving the room. He looked… good. He wouldn't admit it to Kurt, but he liked this new style. He could easily pass as Brian, the kindergarten teacher.

He would go to his class and kids would greet him with sleepy smiles. He would smile back and go to his desk. There he would find a drawing of him made by one of his students. He would laugh and ask them who made the masterpiece and then he would hang it on the wall. He would begin each class with a song, something energetic to get the kids awake…

"Blaine? What's taking you so long?" Kurt's voice startled him.

"Sorry, had trouble with the bowtie. Do I really have to wear it?" he asked on the way downstairs, though secretly he loved the checkered orange and white pattern.

"It complements the look," Kurt said, studying the wine bottles in his hands. He looked up and a frown appeared on his face. "Oh come on… I've told you several times already, you have to tuck the shirt into the pants."

"Do I really have to? It feels weird. I never liked it."

"Don't be a baby. I'm not going out with a husband who looks like he has no idea how to dress," Kurt argued.

"Well, that would be one thing we wouldn't be lying about tonight."

"As long as you are with me, your outfits will be coordinated. Don't forget, it's my reputation as a fashion writer at risk."

"Fair enough, my very fashionable husband," Blaine rolled his eyes playfully, tucking his shirt into the pants. Kurt busied himself discreetly while Blaine unzipped his pants, and didn't turn back until he heard the zipper going up. "Here, happy?"

"Very much. Let's go, husband."

"After you, husband." Blaine gave him a small bow and let Kurt walk out first. That's when he noticed something. "Whoa, wait, are you seriously bringing a gun to the party?"

"How else am I supposed to protect you if something happens? I need to be prepared. After all, only yesterday you became a target of one of the most influential crime families in the country."

"I don't know, use your super-secret ninja skills maybe? What if someone sees the gun?" Blaine said, unable to believe that, out of the two of them, he was being the voice of reason. "How would you react if someone brought a gun to your house party?"

"Fine, if it makes you feel better, I will leave the gun locked in my bedroom. But I'm bringing my ninja stars and you can't stop me," Kurt said, handing him the bottles and walking upstairs.

"Sure, bring as many stars as you want," Blaine snorted.

This could be his life one day. Just him and his husband, bickering and teasing each other. Having breakfast together before going to work and sharing stories about their day over dinner. Watching movies together while cuddling on the couch and feeding each other strawberries or grapes, because movies are not complete without snacks. If only he could find this person who would want it all with him.

He heard Kurt's steps and snapped out of his daydream. "Just so you know," Kurt said as he started walking downstairs, "I'm bringing seven ninja stars in my pockets. I wanted to bring my sai swords as well, but since you were such a baby about the gun, I thought you would be opposed swords as well."

"Are you mocking me?" Blaine asked, and with a smirk Kurt reached out into his pocket and pulled a single ninja star out of it. "You have got to be shitting me… I was joking about the ninja skills."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Kurt said, pocketing the star.

"You are so showing me the swords after the party."

"Deal. And maybe if you get our story right in front of our neighbours tonight, I will teach you some tricks."

"It's on, Hummel," Blaine beamed. "I won't pretend to be Brian. I _will_ _be_ Brian."

"That's what I'm hoping for," Kurt beamed at him, and took one bottle out of Blaine's hands. "Ready now?"

"One thing only," Blaine said and hugged Kurt tightly, sliding his hands down his body.

"Do you want to check other places for the gun?" Kurt snorted.

"Nope, the only plausible place was under your jacket, and it didn't feel like you were happy to see me," Blaine answered as he let go off Kurt, "so we are good to go, husband."

"Let's go, husband," Kurt smiled and they left the house.

* * *

 _ **Let me know what you think!**_


	6. Ch IV: OF HUSBANDS AND NEIGHBOURS II

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by _heartstringsduet_ (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by _47mel47_ (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** **lyingxiscariot** (FFnet), **FangirlingFanatic** (FFnet), and **stulti**.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Weekly on Sundays or Mondays

 **Chapter notes** : I'm very sorry for the late update! On the bright side, you won't need to wait long before the next chapter.

* * *

 **CHAPTER IV: OF HUSBANDS AND NEIGHBOURS II**

The pair walked to the large house across the street that was lit up in every window. Only when they reached it, did Blaine realise how nervous he was. He subconsciously glanced at Kurt who gave him a reassuring smile.

"Everything's gonna be fine," he said and pressed the doorbell.

The door opened shortly, and Blaine had to look down because the person in front of them was sitting in a wheelchair. He looked vaguely familiar, but Blaine couldn't remember where from.

"Hey guys, you must be our new neighbours. I'm Artie Abrams, Sugar's husband," he introduced himself, extending his hand.

Blaine shook it with a smile, trying to not show that he had now recognized the famous movie director. "Nice to meet you. I'm Brian. This is Kevin, my wonderful husband."

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Abrams. Thank–" Kurt began but was cut off by the host.

"Name is Artie," the man winked at him. "I'm no 'mister' to friends."

Kurt laughed. "Well, thank you for having us, Artie. Your wife is a sweetheart."

"If that's a synonym for a scary witch then I agree," Artie said. "Let me guess, she didn't give you a chance to say no to the invitation?"

"She didn't, but we would have said yes anyway," Kurt assured him seriously. "We brought wine by the way."

"That she told you to bring?" Artie shook his head and moved back to let them in. "I'd tried to teach her some manners back when we were dating, but later I realised I loved her the way she was. Now I just admire how she gets away with it every single time."

"Must be her charisma," Blaine suggested.

"Must be. Please, close the door and follow me," Artie said and turned his wheelchair.

Soon they found themselves in a spacious living room. There were more than twenty people chatting amongst themselves, and yet the room didn't look crowded. Blaine soon spotted Sugar, who waved at them.

"Hey guys," Artie said loudly, and everyone turned around, "I would like to introduce our new neighbours, who moved in across the street from us yesterday. The one closer to me is Brian and next to him is his husband Kevin. We can interrogate them during dinner, which will be served in five minutes. I'll go check in the kitchen and let you know when we can move to the garden."

With that Artie was gone and Blaine looked nervously at Kurt. He had no idea how they were supposed to proceed. Luckily for them, Sugar was a great hostess and immediately appeared at their side.

"I'm so happy you could make it," she said, giving them short hugs. "And I see you brought wine, thank you very much. It's very thoughtful of you. I'll just put the bottles on the table and introduce you to the people worth knowing."

"You have a lovely house," Kurt said while the woman was busy.

"You haven't seen the best of it yet," she said, and looked over the people who had gathered in the room. "Boring, annoying, stole my silverware last time, old, annoying… Ah, I know, come with me," she said, and led the way to the fireplace. "Kevin, Brian, these are my favourite neighbours, Quinn and Noah Fabray. Guys, Kevin and Brian just moved here."

"It's very nice to meet you," the blonde woman said, sipping red wine.

"Welcome to the neighbourhood. You can call me Puck, everyone does," the man with a mohawk said.

"It's nice to meet you," Kurt said, eyeing the hairdo. "What's the story behind your nickname?"

"Used to be Puckerman before marrying my baby mama," the man explained. "Took her last name."

"Where is Beth, by the way?" Sugar asked, grabbing a glass of champagne from a server who was walking among the guests. "That's their daughter," she added for the new couple's benefit.

"She is with a babysitter. My regular girl couldn't make it tonight, so we will cut the night short this time," Quinn explained hurriedly, and turned back to Blaine and Kurt. "So, are you enjoying the neighbourhood?" she asked.

"Haven't had a chance to explore much yet," Blaine rushed to answer before Kurt could. "You know, christening the new house and all," he said, sending a sultry wink to his 'husband.'

"If by 'christening' you mean cleaning up the place," Kurt said, his cheeks catching fire as the others started giggling.

"I can already see who the uptight one in the family is," Puck laughed, and threw his arm over Kurt's shoulders. "Leave it up to me and I will convert you."

"Noah, you will scare them away," Quinn said, pulling her husband away from Kurt. "Please, excuse him. He can be rather invasive sometimes."

"Only to people I like, and if Sugar likes you two then I like you as well. We'll be best buddies, Kevin, as soon as you get that stick out of your ass." Puck wiggled his eyebrows at Kurt.

"Oh, there were no sticks up there the last time I checked," Blaine said, sliding his hand down Kurt's back and resting it on his ass.

He looked at Kurt, who was shooting daggers from his eyes. He then remembered the ninja stars the man carried with him, and removed his hand before it was cut off. Nobody had a chance to say anything else, as at that moment Artie came back and announced that dinner was ready.

"We'll be eating outside," Sugar said. "Just follow everyone else."

Blaine was about to walk together with the neighbours when Kurt grabbed his hand and stopped him. "What are you doing?" he whispered angrily when the others were far enough away.

"Going outside?" Blaine answered, confused.

"Not that. The whole sex thing."

"I just wanted to act realistically," Blaine retorted defensively. "And couples have sex, right?"

" _R_ _ealistically_ doesn't mean acting like a sex crazed maniac," Kurt said, now walking slowly behind everyone else. "Believe it or not, there is difference."

"Oh… Um, I haven't been in a relationship since I was fifteen and my ex talked about sex all the time, so I'm not sure how to… I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Kurt sighed tiredly, but didn't look as angry as before. "Apology accepted. Just… no more sex talk."

"I'll do better now," Blaine promised when they entered the garden.

There were lanterns hanging from the tree branches and they lit up the garden with dim light. Four tables were set for six people each, and people were taking seats as if they knew where they would be sitting. Coming closer, Blaine saw place cards and started looking for their seats.

"The damage is already done, everyone thinks that's how we are, so we can keep it up I guess…" Kurt murmured, manoeuvring among people.

"Kevin, Brian, over here," they heard Puck's voice and saw him waving at them. "Sugar rearranged the seats to make sure you join us. Jenny and Michael were boring anyway."

They joined the couple and Blaine found himself sitting between Puck and Kurt.

"They were alright," Quinn argued, but she sounded more polite than convincing. "Sugar let me in on a secret that we are having duck for dinner. Their chef is amazing, by the way, so it's going to be a feast."

"Look, the waiters are bringing food already," Puck said, rubbing his hands hungrily.

Blaine turned around and saw that the man was right, four young waiters and waitresses wearing black and white were bringing numerous plates and distributing them to the guests. As soon as they reached their table, Sugar and Artie joined them.

"I hope you didn't eat anything before coming here, because the duck is to die for," Sugar said, taking a seat beside Kurt. "It's my cheat day, so I might have a slice myself."

"Your diet is ridiculous, darling, you are beautiful as you are," Artie said, rubbing her thigh affectionately.

"I know I am, but I must look even sexier on your next movie's red carpet," Sugar argued. "After Kate got pregnant I became the hottest wife of your cast and crew, but she might get her body back in shape for the premier."

"We'll continue this conversation in private," Artie cut the discussion short when all of them finally had a plate of their own. "Let's dig in."

Blaine looked down at his plate and inhaled the scent deeply. Several slices of duck meat were arranged in a line in the middle of the square plate, while vegetables and bits of orange were scattered around the corners. Blaine had never had anything this fancy on his plate before.

Soon the only sounds disturbing the silence were cutlery tapping the plates and chewing, as nobody dared to disrupt the others' pleasure in the meal. In front of him, Artie tried to silently coax Sugar into eating more than a couple bites, but soon the woman gestured to the waiter to take her plate away. Blaine didn't want to assume anything, so he kept his head down and didn't speak.

"Damn, that was good," Puck said as he emptied the plate and sat back in the chair, rubbing his belly happily. "Beats the lobsters we had last time."

"Your chef outdid himself," Quinn joined the praises.

"Best meal I've ever had," Blaine added truthfully.

"Compliments to the chef," Kurt said, fishing for the last cherry tomato on the plate, which kept rolling away from his fork.

"Let me help," Blaine laughed, and easily stabbed the tomato with his fork. He brought it to Kurt's mouth, but as soon as he opened it, Blaine popped it in his own mouth.

"Jerk," Kurt pouted, unable to suppress a smile.

"And yet you married me," Blaine grinned with his mouth full.

"I was forced to," Kurt laughed, and Blaine followed after catching his eye.

"You two are adorable together," Quinn said after thanking the waiter for taking away her plate. "How long have you been married?"

"Half a year, give or take," Kurt answered. "But we have been together for three years now."

"Best three years of my life," Blaine said, looking at Kurt as a proud husband. "With more awesome years to come."

"Well said," Kurt nodded at him.

"Tell us more about yourself," Artie interrupted them. "We were quite excited to find we are getting some fresh meat on the street."

"Speaking of fresh meat, someone rented the blood house recently. Or so Jenny says," Quinn cut in.

"The blood house?" Kurt asked, visibly disgusted by the name.

"M-hm, you've heard right," Sugar nodded. "The old owner was killed and her nephew has been trying to sell the house for years. I guess renting it is better than leaving it empty."

"Let's not talk about it, I hate thinking about blood," Puck grimaced. "Makes me wanna puke."

"And that's my strong, manly husband," Quinn shook her head.

"Who says that all men have to tolerate blood? I thought your feminist equality bullshit included men's rights too," Puck rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," Quinn said, checking her wristwatch openly. "It's getting late, our babysitter has to leave in ten minutes, so unfortunately, we have to leave. Kevin, Brian, it was a pleasure to meet you. Sugar, Artie, thank you for a lovely evening."

"What Quinn said," Puck added, and they left.

Artie squirmed uncomfortably. "Quinn and Puck are… going through a rough patch right now," he explained. "It's no big deal. It happens every couple of months or so. They make up and life is good for a while. You just get used to it."

"Dully noted," Kurt said, looking around. "I'll go bring some juice from the drink stand. Anyone want anything?"

"Whatever you're having," Blaine said. "Do you need a hand?"

"I'll manage two glasses, honey," Kurt responded and walked away.

Blaine watched him go and saw someone stopping him to chat as the guests who had finished eating started to mingle among themselves. Kurt glanced back at Blaine, probably to make sure he wasn't being murdered after he had left him with no protection, then returned his attention to the person he was talking to.

"Sugar, look, Cooper tweeted a photo of his newborn," Artie suddenly exclaimed, and Blaine turned back to the man so quickly his neck made a protesting sound.

He saw Sugar gaping at the phone screen. "Aww, it's the cutest baby ever! Look, Brian, isn't he adorable?" she asked, thrusting the phone into Blaine's hands.

He looked down and saw a sleeping baby, wrapped into a blanket burrito, resting on a woman's chest while the man in the corner of the frame took a selfie with them. "Yeah, adorable," he choked out, as his heart suddenly decided to escape his chest.

"Seems the baby got the Anderson genes," Sugar said after she took the phone away from a very reluctant Blaine. "Lucky boy. I'm not saying Kate is not beautiful, but Cooper's face is ridiculously perfect."

"Cooper Anderson is the star of the movie I'm directing, in case you don't know," Artie clarified to Blaine. "He's pretty famous. Awesome guy."

"Um, yeah, I've… heard of him…" Blaine said, trying to get another glance at the photo.

"We took two weeks off filming because his wife was about to give birth some time soon," Artie said, pocketing the phone much to Blaine's disappointment.

"Hey, did he say the baby's name?" Sugar asked, making Artie take the phone out again.

"Let me see," he said, slowly unlocking the phone. "Ah, yes, I haven't paid much attention to the tweet, just clicked the photo. It says: _Hey world, meet our precious gem – Lucas Blaine Anderson. Hashtag FutureHeartbreaker._ "

Upon hearing that, Blaine froze in his seat as the world around him ceased to exist. He'd had no idea that Cooper Anderson's wife was pregnant, but the news didn't shock him as much as the name did.

"Are you okay? Brian? You look… sick," he heard, and looked up to see Sugar's worried face.

"Oh, of course I'm… fine," he tried to smile and failed.

Sugar looked sympathetically at him. "It's probably hard seeing straight couples with kids? Don't worry, there are many ways for you and Kevin to have kids. There is no need to be jealous."

Jealous was the last thing he was. "Sure, you are right. I need… I'll go find Kevin. He's been gone for a while and I'm… thirsty, yeah. Excuse me."

He walked away and the last thing he heard was Sugar's muttered 'must be a sensitive topic'. He needed a distraction and a chat with Kurt, and the new neighbours would provide him just that. He walked up to Kurt, who was now talking to an elderly lady.

"–that's how I learned that toothpaste wasn't good for the tooshie sex. Don't ever do that, you hear me?" the woman said seriously.

"I'll keep that in mind," Kurt promised, nodding fervently.

"Good. You youngsters need to listen to people with experience," she said, satisfied. "My son always dismisses what I tell him to do. Mark my words, he will regret it one day."

"I'm sure he will," Kurt said and let out a sigh of relief when he felt Blaine's arm around his waist. "Ah, Mrs. Lewis, this is my husband Brian."

"Use lube," the woman said, and walked away.

"Making friends?" Blaine asked with a forced smile.

"These people are either insane or intense, or both," Kurt said tiredly. "During my other, you know, _cases,_ " he whispered, "people usually were less nosy. Here, everyone wants to know everything and they are all so weird."

"We can stick to those four," Blaine offered, referring to the first four people they had met here. "Chat a bit with others and then pretend we only like Sugar, Puck, Artie, and… what was her name?"

"Fabray?"

"That's their last name," Blaine said. "Whatever, let's get something to drink while we can. Also, you might want to know that Brian wants kids. Don't ask…" he added when he saw Kurt's confusion.

The evening proceeded, and Blaine didn't let Kurt get away from him for a minute. He served as a constant reminder that he was Brian Thompson here, and couldn't let Blaine Anderson's thoughts and feelings take over. They introduced themselves to all the neighbours and even though they only remembered a handful of names, by the end of the evening they felt as if they had done pretty well in their acting exercise.

The guests began leaving close to midnight, and Blaine with Kurt were among them. They went to Artie and Sugar to thank them for making them feel included.

"We are leaving now," Kurt said. "Again, thank you for inviting us. I don't know of a better way to get to know everyone."

"I was actually afraid of moving at first," Blaine admitted, "but you made us feel welcome. We are lucky to have such great neighbours."

"Sugar has an eye for awesome people, so we already consider you friends," Artie said, shaking their hands.

"Say, what are you two doing on Tuesday?" Sugar asked, walking them out. "Whenever my bunny is away for work I get some people together for a book club. And since you love reading and have, well, problems with employment, maybe you would like to join us? Kevin is invited too, of course."

"It sounds like a lot of fun," Kurt said, looking expectantly at Blaine.

"Oh yes, it does. Where is Artie going?"

"He's going back to LA on Monday to finish filming the movie," Sugar said. "So, on Tuesday we will have our first meeting, so bring a book you would like to suggest. The meeting is at three in the afternoon, by the way. Don't be late."

"We won't. Have a good night," Blaine said, going out through the front door.

"Oh, I will," Sugar said with a wink and closed the door.

"The evening was a success, don't you think?" Blaine asked as they crossed the street. "I don't think anyone suspects anything."

"And they won't if you don't talk out loud on the street," Kurt pointed out.

"Sorry, forgot…"

They went inside and Kurt looked at him excitedly. "So, I think you were quite a good husband and deserve to play with my sai swords."

"Actually," Blaine said, when finally the weight of Brian Thompson's identity lifted off of him, "I'm tired. Maybe tomorrow?"

Kurt nodded, visibly disappointed. "Sure. I need to make a call anyway."

"Goodnight then," Blaine said, and without another glance walked upstairs into his new bedroom.

As soon as he got into bed, Blaine was unable to stop his thoughts of the photo he had seen and the memories it had brought. He had deliberately avoided following his famous brother's life and career, and now that the news about his _nephew –_ who shared his name – was thrown at his face Blaine didn't know how to feel.

For years he had thought that Cooper didn't care about him. He never believed him, or pretended not to, when he had told him their father was hitting him and their mother. He'd ignored every plea for help, too busy with his new college life. After Blaine came out, it had only gotten worse. The phone calls got rarer and rarer, and he hardly ever came visiting. And when he did, their dad told him the bruises were from guys who had tried to turn him into a man. Cooper had believed his father over his brother.

It had been years since they had last seen each other, and Blaine had managed to talk himself into thinking that he was fine. That Cooper hated him and wouldn't want to see him anyway. He would probably just ruin his career by showing up in his life – tabloids would have fun writing about the actor's prostitute brother.

Now, however, he wasn't sure what Cooper was thinking. He wondered if it meant that he missed him. Maybe Cooper wanted him back in his life. It could also be a message for him that he was loved and welcome to come back to his family. If only…

Lucas Blaine Anderson… He wished with his whole heart that this tiny human being had a better life than him. And he would do his part in making it happen by staying far away from him.

* * *

 _ **Reviews would be lovely :)**_


	7. Ch V: OF CLUB MEMBERS AND CHILDREN I

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by _heartstringsduet_ (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by _47mel47_ (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** **lyingxiscariot** (FFnet), **FangirlingFanatic** (FFnet), and **stulti**.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Weekly on Sundays or Mondays

 **Chapter notes** : my apologies, I really thought I had updated last week! I'll make it up to you with an extra chapter this week.

* * *

 **CHAPTER V:** **OF CLUB MEMBERS AND CHILDREN I**

Although undisturbed throughout the night, Blaine didn't feel rested when he woke up at nine in the morning. He was exhausted. In spite of having had more than eight hours of sleep, his dreams were haunted by the memories of his own father beating him up, and self-created images of criminals killing his baby nephew Lucas. He was actually relieved to wake up, because he realised that nothing of the sort was happening.

After a quick shower in attempt to properly wake up, Blaine went into the kitchen for some coffee. He wasn't hungry. Every time he thought of his nightmares, he felt like throwing up.

"Good morning," Kurt greeted him as soon as he walked into the kitchen. He was eating something out of a mug, laptop in front of him.

"Hey," Blaine responded, going straight to the electric kettle.

"So, did you have fun last night?" Kurt asked conversationally as he closed the laptop. "Didn't have a chance to ask you yesterday."

"Surprisingly yes. I was so preoccupied with pretending to be the Brian guy that I didn't even have a moment to think about Travis and the Changs. It's hard to believe it happened only two days ago."

"Feels like forever, huh?"

"Maybe a week, not forever," Blaine said with a forced laugh. He couldn't believe so much had happened in so little time.

"Close enough," Kurt laughed awkwardly.

"True. Um, speaking of the murder mess… Is there any chance I could snoop around the Marshals' database or whatever to find out more about the Changs?" he asked nonchalantly, throwing some coffee grounds into a cup.

"I could get fired if someone found out. I can't let anyone use my access to the database," Kurt said apologetically.

"Then maybe you could lend me some electronic device I could use google on?" Blaine asked, pouring hot water into the cup. "I don't have a smart phone and I want to research the Changs."

"There isn't much publicly known about them. And their Wikipedia page has some false info."

"Awesome…" Blaine grumbled. It sounded harsher than he had planned, and even though he felt guilty momentarily, he didn't apologise.

"But, I guess I could tell you some things that are available to the public and that are true, so you don't have to read about Mike Chang growing up in a travelling circus."

"He what?"

"There is no proof that happened," Kurt explained. "Some teenager probably thought it would be funny to make stuff up."

"Don't underestimate evil geniuses," Blaine laughed. A cup of coffee was now in his hands, and he hoped to soon be able to have some energy in his body. "He might have been a fire-eater as a kid."

"I'm starting to believe it was you who edited that webpage," Kurt snorted, scraping the last bits of his breakfast off the sides of the mug. "You look tired. Did you sleep well?"

"Not really," Blaine admitted reluctantly. Lies were no use; if he looked tired, Kurt wouldn't believe he'd slept well anyway.

"Let me guess, nightmares?"

He nodded, and Kurt thought for a moment before beginning to speak slowly. "I have this nightmare antidote that works on me almost every time. My dad invented it when I was little. If you let me experiment on you, I might be able to make you feel better."

"How does this antidote work?" Blaine frowned, before taking a sip of the hot, bitter liquid.

"Well, first of all you should have breakfast. Then you do what I tell you to do," Kurt said, going to wash up his mug.

"Sounds like fun," Blaine said, voice heavy with sarcasm. As good as Kurt's intentions were, he didn't particularly like being ordered around. He had enough of that with clients.

"If you don't like it at any point, we can stop. But I have a feeling you might enjoy it."

"Okay, you got me curious, I'm in."

"Now I feel pressured to make it perfect… Okay, I've made too much of the banana strawberry smoothie for breakfast, so if you want you can have the leftovers. There's more than enough for one. And maybe forego coffee. In the meantime, I'll go get ready," Kurt said, placing the unwashed mug into the sink, and left.

Blaine poured himself a mug of the thick drink. Even though he didn't feel like eating, he didn't want Kurt to think he was ungrateful. He followed Kurt's lead and dug in with a spoon instead of trying to drink it out of the mug itself.

As he ate, Blaine thought of Kurt and what he could possibly be doing. He didn't like not knowing what he was in for, but the feeling of being cared for was nice. Kurt was out there trying to do something to cheer him up. Just thinking about it made him feel better.

He was soon done eating soon, and was washing up when Kurt walked into the kitchen.

"The smoothie was berry delicious, thank you," Blaine said, placing the mug onto the dish rack.

"What?" Kurt looked at him, confused.

"Very, berry? As in strawberry? Berry delicious? Ah, forget it…" Blaine gave up as Kurt didn't show any signs of following his train of thought.

"Strawberry is actually a fruit," he said.

Blaine shrugged. "Who cares? My pun was still awesome."

"You could say it was… strawesome," Kurt grinned, looking at him mischievously.

"You totally understood my pun!" Blaine exclaimed. "I knew I liked you for a reason, Hummel."

Kurt laughed. "You look better now. If you don't want to go through with my nonsense, we don't have to–"

"I still want to see this mysterious antidote," Blaine cut him off, determined to learn the mystery.

"Fine. I need you to leave the kitchen then. I'll let you know what to do next," Kurt instructed, opening up the cupboards, looking for something.

"Okay," Blaine said, and took a few steps to a side, successfully making it into the living room.

"You are still here," Kurt stated when he turned around.

"No, technically I'm in the living room. You said to leave the kitchen. I'm not in the kitchen."

"Out," Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and glared at him angrily. "Go to your room."

"Mean," Blaine mumbled and left. He was soon summoned downstairs to find Kurt in the living room.

"First step of the antidote is to make a human burrito of you," he said, guiding Blaine on the couch. "How is your backside? Can you sit?"

"Yes," Blaine affirmed and sat down on the thick blanket that was laid on the couch. A cushion was shoved into his arms. He looked questioningly at Kurt.

"Step two is cuddle a plush toy. This is the closest to a toy I could find," Kurt responded, before adding, "Now wrap yourself up, please."

He left immediately and came back with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows on top. Blaine didn't know if his stomach could handle more liquids, but he accepted the mug with gratitude nevertheless.

"That was step three. And now step four," Kurt said sitting down next to him and picking up the TV remote. He pressed play.

" _Hotel Transylvania_ is part of your antidote?" Blaine asked incredulously when the movie began. He had seen its posters a couple of years back, but decided against spending money on the ticket.

"Any uplifting animation works. And this one is just awesome. Now hush."

And Blaine did. He sipped cocoa slowly as guests started arriving at the hotel. Soon his memories of the nightmares faded.

Blaine was so transfixed by the movie that he didn't even notice how time flew.

"Did it work?" Kurt asked when ending credits began rolling.

"It actually did," Blaine said. He didn't hurry to untangle himself from the blanket. "I… my brother had a son recently. I found out last night."

He hadn't planned to tell Kurt about it. And yet he wanted to talk to someone, and Kurt was the only one he could discuss it with.

"Normally I would say congrats on becoming an uncle, but you don't sound happy about it."

"I'm happy for him, I really am," Blaine sighed, hugging the cushion more tightly. "I just wish I could be a part of his life, you know? Be a proper fun uncle who brings presents whenever he visits. But, instead he will probably never know about his dad having a brother. What kid would want a whore uncle anyway?"

"You are more than your… occupation. Who cares how many people you've had sex with? No matter your past, you can still be a fun uncle," Kurt said softly.

"Oh please, don't pretend you are not judging me," Blaine laughed coldly.

"I'm not, trust me. I've met people like you and I know you must have had–"

"People like me?" Blaine laughed again. "Do you mean prostitutes with sob stories? Abducted and sold into sex slavery? Thrown out by parents with no means of surviving? Forced by their abusive boyfriends? Well, newsflash, I don't have such story. I did this to myself. I was stupid, and I got where I am because of that," his voice rose with each word, and by the end of his rant he was not only shouting, but also close to tears.

"So it had nothing to do with your dad abusing both you and your mother?" Kurt asked, not fazed by the yelling.

"Wha– How do you…" he was taken aback by his knowledge.

"We always check everything there is to know about the person going into witness protection. It's part of the job."

"Whatever," Blaine spat, not caring about Kurt digging into his past at the moment. "It was stupid to run away. I should have stayed until I was done with school."

"And risk getting killed or seriously hurt? You could have involved child services or something instead of running away, sure, but you had to protect yourself somehow," Kurt said, as if he understood what Blaine was going through. He didn't.

"At least it would have been me and not my mom. I left her there to suffer alone," Blaine said, and tears threatened to escape his eyes.

"Oh Blaine–"

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, and was about to leave when Kurt's words stopped him.

"Your mother divorced your dad two years ago. He is in prison now."

"What?" he looked at the man's face, trying to find traces of lies.

"I shouldn't be telling you this… but it's probably eating you alive so… just give me a second," Kurt said, and went to the kitchen to retrieve his laptop. He logged in and searched Blaine's dad. "Here is his record."

Blaine took the laptop and stared at his dad's mugshot.

"I listened to her statement. The abuse got worse through the years," Kurt said while Blaine skimmed the legal information about the man's imprisonment. "Neighbours called the police several times because they heard yelling and things breaking. But it wasn't until your brother saw bruises on her body that she admitted what was happening."

"Sixteen years," Blaine muttered, reading the prison sentence recorded on the profile.

"He was sentenced for both domestic violence and child abuse. And he also tried to run away from the police," Kurt explained. "They didn't need your testimony because you were still a child when it was happening and your mother's statement was enough. It helped that the judge had kids. It's always an advantage in child abuse cases."

"She's safe," Blaine whispered, and now his tears fell freely. "I hated her for letting him do it to us, but I still love her, you know? And she is safe now… Wow, thank you."

"How long has it been since you last saw your family?"

"Since I ran away. I was sixteen then. Haven't talked to them since," he said, wrapping the blanket more tightly around his shoulders.

"Maybe, now that you know that your dad is out of the picture, you could visit them after witness protection is called off?"

"Maybe…" Blaine said absentmindedly. He would have to think about it, but he highly doubted that reuniting with his family would benefit anyone. "What's the plan for today?" he asked, giving Kurt a sign that they were done talking about his family.

"I was thinking of visiting the local library. We need to pick up a book for the first book club meeting. I know it's days away, but I'd rather read a book or two before suggesting something to the other members."

"Sounds good to me. Do you think I could check out some textbooks?"

"Sure, I don't see why not," Kurt shrugged and stood up, picking up their empty mugs. "I'll put these in the sink and we can go get ready. Okay?"

"Okay. And when we come back maybe you could show me your sai swords?"

"Deal!"

The trip to the library was a success. Blaine not only got a couple of books for the club and several textbooks, he also managed to print out the photo of Lucas. He even spent more of his savings so he could have a coloured version. Grey was too depressing.

Afterward, Kurt showed him the swords as promised, but upon seeing some tricks Blaine decided against playing with them. It looked dangerous and, besides, he enjoyed watching Kurt.

After lunch, Kurt came to Blaine with an unusual request. "We need to take some photos," he said when Blaine opened his bedroom door for him.

"Why? Do you have a photo album on facebook called 'my super-secret witness protection cases'? Because you know it's not how it works, right?" Blaine smirked at him.

"That's an awesome idea, but sadly, no. We need photos to represent our relationship," Kurt explained. "It's a normal procedure. Last night someone asked if I had a photo of our wedding on my phone and I had to say no. She had hers as her phone screen."

"Okay then. But I'm taking one with the swords. It would look super cool."

"Be my guest."

"Do I need to wear anything special?" Blaine asked, looking down at his sweats and a simple blue shirt.

"No, we mostly need face photos and maybe a few full body shots. Everything else can be modified by specialists," Kurt said.

"Let me guess, you have a whole department of _PhotoShop_ specialists?"

"I can neither confirm, nor deny it. Now let's get this over with."

The living room had the best light, so they held a short photoshoot. Blaine didn't even bother to look through the shots because he knew they would be retouched.

"I love this selfie," Kurt said, shoving the camera to his face. In the photo, Kurt was smiling adorably and Blaine was kissing his cheek while smiling too. He had to admit it was a sweet photo. "They won't even have to change anything."

"Or we can pretend all our photos got burned and our computers got viruses so we don't have a single photo," Blaine suggested jokingly. "And so we only have the ones in our new living room."

"Yes, because that's believable," Kurt rolled his eyes and turned the camera off.

"Hey, who's that?" Blaine asked looking out the window. A moving truck was pulling past their house. After a few seconds it stopped.

"Must be the new neighbour Puck's wife mentioned," Kurt said, joining Blaine in staring.

Soon a young man got out of the car together with the driver, and when he reached the back, Kurt couldn't hold a laugh in.

"He looks like a vampire who has just rolled in glitter," he said, watching the man struggle to walk on his four-inch high heels. He was wearing a glittering black coat and a matching top hat.

"Hm, I wouldn't have compared him to something like that, but now that you said it I can't un-see it," Blaine said, mesmerized. "I'm also imagining Dracula rolling in a glitter pool."

"Oh shit, he saw us," Kurt cursed when the guy waved at them. "Should we go say hi? Offer to help?"

"We should. Otherwise we will look stuck up," Blaine said, and they went outside to greet their new neighbour.

"Hello," Kurt said when the man came back from the house for another box. "My name is Kevin and this is my husband, Brian."

"It's an extraordinary pleasure to meet you, guys," the man said, shaking their hands. "Did you know that the Colonel-in-Chief of the Norwegian Royal Guard is a penguin? Crazy," he said, and grabbed a box before walking away.

"What just happened?" Kurt asked, stunned.

"Why would anyone appoint a penguin to such a role?" Blaine had a better question.

"Should we wait for him or…?"

"He's coming back."

"His name is Nils Olav, by the way," the man said, sitting down on the edge of the truck and pushing a box for the driver to pick up.

"And what's yours?" Blaine asked.

"Call me Starchild. Everybody does," the man said, swinging his legs. "I gave you an interesting fact, now you have to give one to me. It's only fair."

"Okay? Um, I don't know," Kurt muttered, scratching his head. "Help me, honey?"

"For example, it would be interesting for me to know your last names," Starchild prompted.

"Thompson," Blaine replied.

"Awesome, Kevin and Brian Thompson, now we are cool-facts-buddies!" the man exclaimed and jumped out of the truck. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I have this boring moving-in stuff to do. And thanks for almost offering to help, but I'll be fine. Oh, and did you know it's illegal in Singapore to chew gum in public? Well, now you do. Bye."

"Why do I get a feeling we will see a lot of him?" Kurt asked as they made their way back home.

"He's funny, I like him," Blaine said. "Are we done with the photos? I'd like to go back to my books."

"Sure. See you at dinner."

As the days passed, Kurt and Blaine easily fell into a routine He hadn't shared a space with anyone since he had lived with his parents, and while it was a two-story house, it was still rather unexpected how natural it felt.

In the mornings, Blaine would peel fruit while Kurt blended them into delicious smoothies. Afterward, they would go to their rooms and Blaine would read or study while Kurt did his whatever secret tasks. They would meet for tea or coffee at some point and then go back to their sanctuaries until it was time to cook for lunch. The same routine followed until dinner, and they would always finish their day with a mug of warm milk, which Blaine insisted was still lame, but secretly enjoyed.

With each day, Blaine's back hurt less and less until it stopped. He could easily move and sit down without discomfort. And while the money issue still bugged him, he was relieved he didn't have to meet any clients. For the first time in a few years, he had the luxury of resting his mind and body for longer than two days.

Suddenly it was Tuesday, and with it the meeting of the book club. Throughout the week, Kurt and Blaine had seen Sugar twice, but on both occasions she had been busy with the kindergarten she and her husband owned, so they didn't have a chance to talk much. Artie spent most of his days working from home before going back to LA, and he was nowhere to be seen. Puck, on the other hand, spent a couple of evenings with them, complaining about his wife, who, according to him, didn't have time for him anymore.

The man was sweet and fun, but Blaine would have preferred it just being him and Kurt, because then they wouldn't have had to pretend to be other people. On the other hand, Puck's constant babbling about everything and nothing served as a great distraction.

And then there was the mystery of Starchild. A guy who was never seen without his top hat or eyeliner. Even on his way to check mail in the morning, he wore those together with pyjamas. They hadn't talked since their first meeting, but they always greeted each other in passing.

On the morning of the club meeting, Kurt surprised Blaine by revealing that the photo editors had finished the final touches on the Thompsons' photo album. Blaine had seen his share of _PhotoShop_ failures, so he was fairly curious to see the outcome. As they sat in the kitchen and Kurt flipped through the photos on his laptop, Blaine kept an eye out for mistakes.

"I absolutely love this one," Kurt said as he lingered on a photo of 'them' lying on deck chairs.

"Is it from that awesome Caribbean cruise the amazing Kevin surprised Brian with?" Blaine asked.

"Yes. Now we have a proof that Kevin is, in your own words, amazing," Kurt said, proud of himself.

Blaine nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. Of course, it would be better if Brian didn't have six fingers in this one, but we can say I've had a finger removal surgery."

"What?" Kurt's eyes widened and he leaned closer to the screen. "Where?"

"Ha! You looked," Blaine laughed and took a step back, pretending to be preparing for the man's attack.

"You jerk! I'm gonna divorce you so hard," Kurt said, closing his laptop with an unnecessarily loud bang.

Blaine's mouth hung open in mock horror. "Oh no! What am I going to do without my beloved husband? No, please, don't leave me all alone in this scary world!" he pleaded, falling onto his knees.

"You should have thought about it before you broke my heart. You should have known by now that making fun of me was the only thing I would not tolerate! What kind of husband are you if you don't know that?"

"A non-uptight one?" Blaine asked, getting up on his feet. "You know what, I'm divorcing you, too, for being too serious. I'd love to see you survive without the fun I bring into your life."

"Well fine, be that way," Kurt grabbed his laptop and left the kitchen, holding his head way too high. "Lunch at one as always," he added from the hallway.

"Aye aye, captain," Blaine shouted back and listened for the man's steps until he made it into his bedroom.

Only upon seeing his reflection in the microwave did Blaine realise he was sporting a wide, dopey smile. He cleared his throat and got himself together, forcing his face muscles to relax. This was not a good time to get a crush. But, try as he might, he couldn't help but go back to his bedroom and lie in his bed imagining what dating Kurt would be like. It was the first sign he was screwed.

Blaine avoided Kurt until lunch, irrationally worried that the other would somehow be able to sense his newly discovered crush. He only relaxed afterward when Kurt didn't act any differently. But, when he remembered that they would have to pretend to be husbands, Blaine's anxiety came back. He didn't know how to defeat his crush when he was expected to stare lovingly at Kurt in public.


	8. Ch V: OF CLUB MEMBERS AND CHILDREN II

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by _heartstringsduet_ (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by _47mel47_ (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** **lyingxiscariot** (FFnet), **FangirlingFanatic** (FFnet), and **stulti**.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Weekly on Sundays or Mondays

* * *

 **CHAPTER V:** **OF CLUB MEMBERS AND CHILDREN II**

Blaine and Kurt arrived at Sugar's punctually, to find that only Starchild had come before them. They hadn't known who had been invited but since the coffee table in the living room was set for five people, Blaine assumed they were waiting for Quinn.

"Hello, buddies," Starchild greeted them with a wide smile.

"Hi," Blaine said, taking a seat next to the man while Kurt sat down on his fake husband's other side. "Cool watch," he commented on the accessory politely.

"Yeah?" the man looked at the elegant black watch he was wearing and took it off, offering it to Blaine. "Take it. I have too many."

"Are you serious?" Blaine didn't make a move.

"I'm always serious except when I'm joking," Starchild said, and took Blaine's wrist, putting the watch on. "Fabulous."

"Well, thanks?" Blaine looked at the watch, dumbfounded.

"So if I say 'cool hat', would you–" Kurt began, a smile tugging on his lips.

"Sorry, off limits," Starchild laughed. "But, I have a brooch that would go nicely with that purple shirt you were wearing yesterday… I'll have to find it for you."

"I was just joking. I actually have a large collection of brooches myself," Kurt said.

"I never joke about accessories, Kevin, and neither should you."

They couldn't get more deeply in the discussion because at that time Sugar, Quinn, and a little girl who was holding her hand came into the room.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. My babysitter called last minute and told me she couldn't make it," Quinn explained, out of breath. "This is my daughter Beth. Say hi."

"Hello," Beth said, and took a tiny bow.

"She's recently started dancing lessons at Sugar's kindergarten," Quinn explained to the charmed men, and took a seat next to Sugar.

"When I grow up I will be a cheerleader like my mommy," Beth said proudly, standing by her mother's side.

"That's so cool! I was on a cheerleading team once," Kurt said excitedly.

"You were?" Blaine asked before realising what he had done.

Quinn laughed. "You didn't know your husband used to dance?"

"I was on the team for like a week, no big deal," Kurt explained. "I didn't save any photos and it just never came up in a conversation. Until now."

"Everyone needs secrets in their lives," Quinn nodded understandingly. "Puck still doesn't know some things about me."

"What doesn't daddy know, mommy?" Beth asked, cocking her head.

"Go play, Beth," Quinn said, giving her daughter her cell phone. Blaine noticed some game on the screen.

"I once read that soil on Mars is good for growing asparagus," Starchild said casually as the girl walked away with the phone.

Blaine watched as she went across the room and sat down on the carpet.

"What are you talking about?" Quinn looked at Starchild, confused.

The man shrugged. "Thought we might have some gardening enthusiasts here. Apparently not," he said, smiling widely.

"Alright…" Quinn said slowly. "So, Sugar, you've been awfully silent. You are the president of the book club after all."

"Oh yes, of course, books…" Sugar said absentmindedly.

"Is everything okay?" Blaine asked, seeing that her thoughts were far away. "We can reschedule if you are not up for this today."

"I'm fine, really, just work stuff," the woman said, shaking herself. "Here we go, back to normal," she flashed them a fake smile. "Today, we are going to set a reading list from the books we all chose to recommend. Quinn, be a sweetheart and tell us about your choice."

Beth kept tapping the phone, but soon she placed it on the ground and began picking at the carpet.

"Brian?" Kurt tried to get his attention. Blaine didn't react and Kurt patted his knee.

"What?"

"Do you want to read Quinn's book?" Sugar asked. She now had a notebook and a pen in her hands.

"Um, yeah, sure," Blaine said, having no idea what he was agreeing to. He wasn't paying attention.

"It's two against three then," Sugar said. "Sorry, Quinn, as much as we would like to read your old Yale professor's autobiography, it won't be on our reading list. Next…"

Beth was now lying on her back, making 'snow angels'.

"Brian?" Kurt poked him again.

"What?"

"It's your turn to present a book, honey."

Blaine looked around at expectant faces. "I'm suggesting ' _Twilight_ ' by Stephenie Meyer. Now, excuse me," he said, and pushed aside the book he had actually brought to the meeting. After that he left the table.

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked but Blaine didn't answer.

He walked up to the girl and sat down in front of her. She sat up and looked at him questioningly.

"Hey, I'm Brian," Blaine smiled at her. "I was bored with the adults there and thought maybe you would let me join you? Pretty please?"

The girl looked him up and down and nodded. "Only because I like your bowtie."

"I'm glad I wore this one today," Blaine said in mock relief. "What do you want to do?"

"You could tell me a story," she requested eagerly. "But not Sleeping Beauty or others that my mommy reads to me before bed."

"Um, okay, I can try…" he said, thinking hard. "Ever heard the story about Beauty and the Beast?"

"Yes, I watch Disney movies _all the time_ ," Beth nodded.

"You know what," Blaine said slowly, "I once met a princess who used to be locked up in a tower by a dark wizard. Would you like to hear about her?"

"Yes."

"Not long ago, in a land not that far away… you know Europe?" he asked, and waited for the girl to nod. "Well, there lived a princess. Her name was Bethany."

"Was she pretty?"

"Just like any girl. Her beauty shone through her flaws," Blaine said, aiming for being poetic, but ending up confusing the girl.

"What?"

"I mean, some people thought that her nose was too big or that her freckles tainted her face, but nobody could deny that her piercing blue eyes and soft chestnut hair made her stand out in the crowd. So yes, I would say she was very beautiful."

"Freckles are beautiful, my best friend has them."

Blaine nodded. "They are beautiful to me too, but some people don't like them. That's why I didn't say outright that she was pretty. Because someone would say yes, others would say no. It's okay to have preferences."

"Like how I think that my mommy is very beautiful, but her hair colour is not while my daddy likes it?"

Blaine heard the others giggle and only then realised that everyone was listening to them.

"Something like that."

"Okay," Beth said. "What happened to the princess?"

"One day she was kidnapped by a vicious wizard and taken to this magical forest, so thick that nobody could enter without special spells," Blaine said expressively.

"Was she guarded by a dragon there?"

"How did you know that?" Blaine asked, widening his eyes. "She was indeed. But it was _a friendly dragon_ that did its best to protect her from the wizard."

"Really?" Beth asked, surprised. "But, how did the dragon end up in the wizard's tower then?"

Blaine hadn't thought about it. "Uh, it was a… very smart dragon."

"And?"

"He… pretended to be on the wizard's side, you see," he continued, "but the whole time he just tried to help his victims."

"Oh, that's so cool!" Beth clapped her hands in excitement. "What happened to them?"

"I'm sorry, guys," Sugar suddenly said, standing up, "but we will have to reschedule after all. There is an emergency at the kindergarten and I have to leave."

"That's okay," Quinn said and walked up to Blaine and Beth. "Beth, we are going home."

"Nooo, I'm listening to a story!" the girl argued, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

"You can finish next time," the woman said, looking down at Blaine expectantly. "Right?"

"When?" Beth asked Blaine, looking at him with big watery eyes.

"You know what, I could write it down and maybe your mommy would read it to you before bed?" Blaine suggested, as he had no idea when he would see the girl again.

"What will you say, Beth? Mister Brian will write you a personal story that no other girl has ever heard," Quinn asked, helping her daughter up.

"Okay," Beth said in a small voice.

"By the way, it's very cute how you talk about your husband," Quinn winked at him. "It's obvious you love him very much."

"Why do you say that?"

"Piercing blue eyes, soft chestnut hair, and beautiful freckles? It's beyond adorable," the woman said, and left Blaine speechless. It was the second sign he was screwed.

"Starchild insists we come over to check out his brooch collection," Kurt said when Blaine walked up to them. "And I must admit I'm curious."

"That was a neat story," Starchild complimented him, throwing his arm over Blaine's shoulders. "You have to give me a copy when you finish it. I have a niece who likes dragons."

"Absolutely," Blaine said with a light blush as they walked out of the house. "I have to make it perfect, can't disappoint two girls... But, no pressure, right?"

"As long as someone rides a dragon it should be fine," Starchild said. They were at his house and the man unlocked the front door. "I apologise for the mess, didn't have much time to tidy up."

"What do you do for a living?" Kurt asked, looking around the house. It was perfectly tidy as far as Blaine could see.

"I'm an inventor, sort of," the man said. "I should totally show you the room I work in. But after I bring my brooches. Please, make yourselves comfortable," he said, gesturing towards the living room, and left.

They walked to the couch and sat down, not daring to invade Starchild's privacy by snooping around.

"So what was Sugar's emergency? Did she say?" Blaine asked.

"Apparently one of the teachers came out as transgender recently, and some parents are not happy about it," Kurt explained, checking something on his phone discreetly.

"Oh," was the only thing Blaine said before Starchild came back with a large box filled with little boxes.

"Apparently I left most of my collection at my sister's. I only brought ten or so," he said, setting the box on the coffee table. He then proceeded to open one small box and took a small silver key brooch out. "This is the one I was talking about."

"It's very beautiful…" Kurt said, looking at the accessory in awe. "Are you sure you want to give it to me?"

Starchild nodded with no hesitation. "I can always make more."

"So, what, you are an inventor who designs brooches?" Blaine laughed, opening another box which revealed a green, owl-shaped brooch.

"Accessories are my hobby," Starchild explained. "Other than that, my goal is to create stuff that will make people's lives easier. Like a cup that holds cookies on its bottom. That was genius… I should have thought of it first."

"What have you invented so far?" Kurt asked, putting the last brooch back into its box.

"Come, I'll show you," Starchild said, and led them to the basement. "It's my sanctuary so, please, only bring positive energy."

Now _there_ was the mess Starchild had warned them about. Things were scattered everywhere. Not only the surfaces of numerous chairs and the washing machine were blanketed with weird stuff, but also the floor. Starchild had actually made a path to what appeared to be his work desk. Blaine feared he would step on something important. He wondered if a sane person needed that much stuff lying around.

"I'm not a hoarder if that's what you are thinking. I need all of these," he voiced Blaine's thought as they slowly made their way to see the man's newest invention. "I'm currently working on making this pen emit enough light when switched on that you could easily write something at night. I will advertise it to kids whose parents don't want them to draw or write at night. I think I will call it ' _Parents' worst nightmare_ '. Or something similar. It's not set in stone yet."

"Um, keep brainstorming," Kurt said politely, and picked up a weird ball with many wires hanging out of it. "What's that?"

"I'm trying to invent a comfortable way to store wires," Starchild said and took the ball from Kurt. "That's one of the failed attempts."

"What about this shirt?" Blaine asked, picking up the white item that was lying on the table.

"That's an undershirt," Starchild said.

"And what does it do?"

"Covers your body?" he asked, looking at Blaine as if he was crazy.

Blaine blushed under the man's gaze. "Oh, I thought it was one of your inventions as well."

"That's insane. Why would I be inventing an undershirt?" Starchild laughed.

"Yes, Brian, what were you thinking?" Kurt quipped.

"You two are mean," Blaine said, putting the shirt down. "I should go start writing that story. You two can hang out here and make fun of me behind my back."

"Nah, where's the fun in that?" Kurt asked with a smirk. "We should get going anyway. I only have a week to read ' _Twilight'_. I hate you both for that, by the way."

"Wait, what?" Blaine asked confused. "Why do you need to… oh…" he suddenly realised his mistake.

"Exactly, _oh_ ," Kurt mocked him. "Everyone but me wanted to talk about it next week. All thanks to my genius husband."

"In Brian's defence, this is a great book for the club," Starchild defended him. "It has many interesting issues. Like the fact that the main characters fit the definition of an abusive relationship."

"It might be interesting, but it still means that I'll have to read it," Kurt whined.

"We all need to make small sacrifices in life," Starchild shrugged. "Before you go, you should know that pharaoh Tutankhamun's penis was mummified erect."

"What?" Blaine couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Let yourself out, please," Starchild smiled at them and sat down by the desk. He started working on something and didn't even glance at the couple until they left.

"Why do you think Egyptians mummi–" Blaine asked Kurt on their way out of the house.

"No idea," Kurt said before Blaine could finish his question. "But I'm definitely looking it up as soon as I get to my laptop."

"Oh, speaking of which… Would you lend it to me so I can write that story for Beth? I don't think Quinn would be able to read my handwriting easily."

"Sure, no problem. As soon as we get home, it's all yours."

"You're the best," Blaine said, smiling at the man. He got an equally fond smile in return.

Soon Blaine found out that writing was a tough challenge. He hadn't had to write any story since high school, and it didn't help that Kurt had the newest Windows version installed. The library only had XP.

Technicalities aside, coming up with an interesting plot appeared to be more difficult than he had initially thought. At some point, when it was nearing evening already, he deleted everything he had written and started over. Before that, he took Lucas' photo and set it beside the laptop. That way he could imagine he was telling the story to his nephew.

After three days of hard work, Beth received the story. Her smile and a tight hug were worth his dried, reddened eyes. Compliments from their neighbours and especially from Kurt were an added bonus.

Weeks passed, and November came with its harsh winds, rain, and falling leaves. Light jackets were replaced by coats and scarfs. Normally Blaine would hate this cold, dark season, but this time he didn't. He enjoyed it. He spent evenings with Kurt in their warm house, and whatever they chose to do on any given day was still considerably better than roaming the streets with revealing clothes.

Kurt wasn't perfect, Blaine learned through time. He sometimes chewed with his mouth open and often left his dirty dishes in the sink, saying he would wash them later. He listened to TV too loudly for Blaine's liking. He occasionally ran late and Blaine would have to wait until he got ready.

Blaine wasn't perfect either, he knew that much. He tended to doze off while daydreaming and Kurt would have to repeat half of what he had said. Every so often he would forget to do laundry and have to either borrow something from Kurt or wear dirty clothes. And while Kurt chewed with his mouth open, Blaine sometimes talked with food in his mouth.

They weren't perfect and yet they fit perfectly. They worked surprisingly well as a team. A team that was sometimes dysfunctional, but managed to get things done. They learned how to coexist. When watching TV with Kurt, Blaine would sit just a little further from the TV. Kurt made a habit of telling Blaine when he was doing laundry and asking Blaine if he had Kurt could add to the load. In return, Blaine would wash Kurt's dishes.

Imperfections aside, Kurt was the man of Blaine's dreams. If he had thought he was screwed before, now he knew for sure he was in a lot of trouble. Kurt was caring and compassionate. He seemed to always know when Blaine needed company and when he preferred to be left alone. His jokes made Blaine laugh until he cried, and a single touch made his skin tingle. They both loved books and shared many favourite TV shows and movies. They both read Vogue and had similar taste in music. Blaine could imagine being with someone like Kurt. Being _with Kurt._

Blaine didn't know if it was just his imagination, but sometimes Kurt looked interested in him. Why else would he glance at him with soft eyes and let his hands linger when he helped him with a bowtie? Kurt wouldn't have a shy smile when inviting him to join for a cup of coffee if he didn't have a crush on Blaine. At least that's what Blaine thought when he got to bed every night and reflected on the previous day, looking for hints that his hopes and heart would not be shattered.

It was difficult not to get his hopes up. Kurt had hinted enough that he was gay and single. They already lived together and had to pretend to be married in front of other people. It didn't help that their outings always resembled dates. It wasn't easy to stay away from a romantic mood when star gazing from the top of the Empire State Building.

"Beautiful, huh?" Kurt asked, looking up at a surprisingly clear night sky.

"Beautiful..." Blaine agreed, glancing at Kurt. "Makes me wonder, you know..."

"About?"

"Aliens, of course," Blaine said, and was pushed toward Kurt by a lady who was trying to pass them.

"What about them?" Kurt asked, pulling Blaine closer, making sure there was enough space for others to get by. He didn't remove his arm from around his waist. Blaine's heart made a hopeful jump.

"Do you think they poop just like humans do?" he said, knowing well enough by now that his silliness would make Kurt laugh.

He was right. "Oh my god, you are ridiculous," Kurt chuckled, looking at him… dreamily?

"But seriously, how awesome would it be?" Blaine asked, admiring the sky.

"Knowing about alien pooping routines?" Kurt asked and followed his lead, looking up.

"No. That would be cool, too, but just meeting someone from another planet..."

"And getting probed by them? I prefer humans for that, to be honest," Kurt said conversationally, missing the surprised look on Blaine's face. Kurt was never the one to mention sex, especially not this casually.

"Excuse me, there are children around," someone hissed at them, and Kurt blushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry," he muttered and Blaine had to look away to hide his smile. "It's getting pretty cold up here. Let's go home," he suggested.

"Sure, of course, it's only because of the weather," Blaine teased him.

"Exactly," Kurt said and grabbed his hand. He didn't let go until long after.

As they walked down the street, Blaine looked at an electronics shop window and saw a photo of John Travis staring at him from a TV screen, while the reporter said something he couldn't hear.

And there was that. A little more than two months had passed since Travis had been killed, and nothing had changed. The investigation was still taking place and police hadn't had much luck with it. On the bright side, there was no word on the streets about Changs looking for Blaine. Kurt had granted him freedom, but Blaine had yet to use it. He didn't mind spending time with Kurt, after all.

Blaine had mixed feelings about the stagnation of the investigation progress. On one hand, not having as much freedom as he used to have was frustrating, and pretending to be someone else was hard. On the other hand, life was good. Kurt was amazing, and he had actually made friends with some of the neighbours. He didn't have to sell his body, and Kurt had promised he would look into the possibility of Blaine getting some sort of a job as Brian while he was under protection.

Truth to be told, he was dreading going back to his old life. While he wanted the criminals to be locked up he didn't look forward to being fucked by strangers again. At least he felt ready for the exams, and then he could graduate high school and start a new life. He selfishly hoped he would still be in witness protection by then.

Not much had changed on their street. With Artie back from LA, they expected Sugar to cancel the club, but she didn't. They all had fun. Not only did they share opinions on books, they also gossiped and baked together. They began rotating with hosting, and it was the host's responsibility to select a dessert that they would make together. Artie joined them shortly after coming back. Once he'd been drowned in flour by accident. He said he would rather join their shenanigans than become an onlooker victim.

The first meeting in November was held in Thompsons' house. Kurt had noticed he had forgotten to get butter for cookies, so he went to a grocery store together with Starchild. While Sugar and Quinn chatted in the kitchen, Artie asked Blaine to have a private word with him. They ended up by the staircase, just far enough from the girls.

"We should be fine here," Blaine said when they stopped. "Why the secrecy?"

"This just felt like a one-on-one conversation," Artie said casually, lowering his voice just a little. "Remember the story you wrote for Beth? Sugar gave it to me. It was very good."

"Oh, well, thank you," Blaine said, pleased with himself. Not every day a famous person complimented him.

"Are you a writer like Kevin?"

"No way," Blaine shook his head. "It was a fun thing to do, but I'm more into teaching kids than writing."

"That's actually what I was hoping to hear," Artie smiled. "Sugar and I have been talking. We need a wider selection of extra-curriculars at the kindergarten. We've been thinking of introducing theatre. Would you be interested in producing a play based on your story?"

"Sure, you can use it. I don't mind."

"No, you misunderstood me. We want _you_ to do it," Artie clarified to a stunned Blaine.

"What? You mean like working at your kindergarten?"

"Yes," Artie simply nodded. "It would be an after-school extra for the ones who want to act. Two or three days a week only. A couple of hours of work on those days. Would you be interested? I know it's not really your field…"

"Wow, I don't know. It's very sudden, you know. What does Sugar think about it? It's her kindergarten, after all," Blaine asked, trying to win some time to think.

"It was her idea. Only then did I read the story. It has potential to be a fun, educational play for kids."

"It sounds fun, but I need to ask…" what was Kurt's fake name? He was too shocked to remember it, "my husband," he finished.

"I'm sure he will be delighted. It would add some income, seeing how you are still not able to find a job. Give it some thought, okay?"

"Of course," Blaine promised, and Artie was happy with the answer. They went back to the kitchen, and as soon as Kurt and Starchild came back, they proceeded with the meeting.

The topic of Blaine's employment stayed untouched throughout the afternoon. Only when everyone was leaving did Sugar whisper in his ear to 'think about it'. Kurt gave them a curious look and jumped on the case the moment they were left alone.

"I hope you are not cheating on me, my dear husband," he asked, smirking.

"Is Brian bi?" Blaine asked. They went to the kitchen to tidy up the mess from baking. The house smelled like heaven. "I never thought about it before."

"He can be. As long as he only loves Kevin, he can goggle girls and guys, I don't care," Kurt said, looking helplessly at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. "You wash, I dry?"

"As always," Blaine said, rolling up the sleeves, ready to tackle the monster mess. "Artie offered me a job. It was Sugar's idea."

"And what's the job?" Kurt asked, walking up to him with a kitchen towel in his hands.

"Directing a play in their kindergarten," Blaine said, and poured the water over the dishes to let them soak for a bit. "Based on my story."

"Sounds awesome! Do you want to do it?"

"It sounds like fun," Blaine shrugged, turning around to face Kurt. "It's only a few hours a week, but it's still something to do, and they would pay me. And since you have granted me freedom…"

"So you want to do it," Kurt stated. "I think it's great. But, are you sure working with kids is something you can and want to do? No offence, but you don't have experience, so it might be harder than you think."

"I know, but I want to try it. Most jobs start with a probation period, right? So I can back out at any time," Blaine said, and he felt his voice rising in excitement just thinking about having a respectable job. "And maybe I will find that I like it and I'm good at it?"

"Then go ahead and take it," Kurt smiled at him encouragingly. "You are always so good with Beth that I have little doubt you will be great at it. As long as you enjoy it, I'm fine with you being out of the house for a few hours a week. I'll miss you though."

"I'll text you," Blaine sent him a wink. "They will probably want to run a background check on Brian."

"They have done it already," Kurt said, and added upon seeing Blaine's questioning look. "I got a call recently from my boss and he said someone was checking the legitimacy of Brian's education. They must have remembered when you mentioned graduating Ohio State University."

"So that's it? I say yes and become a teacher?"

"It seems so."

"Do you think it's morally right for me to work with kids?" Blaine asked, turning back to do the dishes to avoid Kurt's gaze.

"Why not?"

"Prostitution?" Blaine said, his voice wavering a little. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not ashamed. It's not an ideal job, but I'm good at it and it pays. I may not like what some people do to me, but it's not permanent. But, working with kids, it just feels…" he couldn't find the right words to express himself.

"When you are playing with Beth do you feel more like a teacher or a prostitute?" Kurt asked, earning himself a confused look. "I'm just saying that as long as you don't act like a prostitute in front of the kids, you should be fine."

"It sounds wrong using the words 'kids' and 'prostitute' in the same sentence," Blaine said. "But you have a point… I think I'm going to do it."

And so he did. Come Monday, Blaine was officially a theatre teacher at the private Sugar & Spice Kindergarten. He couldn't have been more excited.

"I went to school with Sugar and she introduced me to the other teachers. They were awesome. This guy Sheldon looked scary at first, but he was very sweet. He coaches football at the same time I do theatre. And there is also Will who runs a glee club so that kids can sing and dance. And they have some other cool classes. I don't remember them all. It doesn't matter.

"We then went to this small auditorium, which is where I will be teaching my class. Twenty three students signed up for my class! Can you imagine? _Twenty three_! I will have to write in some new characters. I don't feel like telling kids they will be trees…

"Anyway, Sugar introduced me and then just left me. That was _terrifying_. I had thought about the first lesson, but everything left my mind suddenly. And the kids were all looking expectantly at me! So I figured, what do I need to do first? I need to get to know them. So we sat down on the stage in a circle and went around, telling our names with an interesting fact so it would be easier to remember each other. After all, those kids are from different groups, so they don't know each other either. And so…" he ran out of breath and started coughing.

"Blaine, breathe," Kurt laughed over his glass of juice.

"…I introduced myself and I told them that I'm currently taking lessons from my husband on how to use sai swords. You should have seen their faces! They were _that_ impressed.

"The kids are really cool. Samantha has a pet tarantula. Angela is taking ballet classes. Timothy has a cat named Captain America…

"Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?" Blaine asked, seeing Kurt's stare.

"Yeah, a genuine smile. It suits you," he smiled and gestured for him to go on.

"Well, it was awesome, what's not to smile about?" he shrugged and took a sip of juice, all the talking making him thirsty. "After everyone introduced themselves, I told them about my idea for the play and asked them if they had any suggestions. And they did! I mean, not all were great, but some will definitely be in the play. We then did some acting exercises. Some kids have natural talent. I was thinking of giving everyone a week to practise, and then we will hold auditions for parts and start rehearsing next week. I also need to change the script…

"Oh and one girl said I was her favourite teacher when the class ended. I know kids tend to exaggerate, but it was so sweet!"

"I'm sure you deserved it," Kurt smiled at him. "You are very… lovable."

Blaine stopped for a second, but decided not to read too much into his words. "Thank you. It means a lot to have your support. I haven't had that in years, so… thank you."

Most evenings went the same way that week. Blaine would come back from work and tell Kurt all about his short day at the kindergarten. He told him how much he loved working with the kids and how much they loved him. He boasted about the progress the kids were making and shared his thoughts about the casting. He had already found a perfect girl for the princess' part. Kurt guessed it was Beth, but Puck and Quinn's daughter was actually planning to audition for the role of the dragon. Blaine couldn't imagine a more suitable candidate.

On Friday, Kurt proposed a celebration of his first successful week as a teacher. They opened a bottle of wine and rested on the couch, sitting close to each other, invading each other's personal space, but still comfortable.

"To your first week," Kurt saluted, and they clinked their glasses.

"Couldn't have done it without you," Blaine smiled and sipped the sweet drink. "It's still hard to believe that I'm earning money by, basically, playing with kids."

"You are good at it, so why not? I talked to Sugar yesterday and she said you exceeded her expectations. And Quinn said Beth doesn't shut up about her theatre class and the perfect teacher. You could consider it for your career in the future."

"I would need to get rid of the shadow of my past first," Blaine said, not meeting Kurt's eyes. "Employers ask too many questions. It would be difficult to explain why I graduated high school at the age of twenty-three or four."

"People take years off for various reasons," Kurt shrugged.

"Yes, after school, not at the age of sixteen…"

"It still baffles me. You were _only sixteen_ … how did you cope with… you know?"

"Living on my own and fucking for money?" Blaine offered. "It was difficult at first. Especially losing my virginity… But later it got better, when I realised that I could be worse than this. Me selling sex doesn't make me a bad person. I'm not killing or raping anyone. As soon as I came to this conclusion it got easier to live with myself."

"You lost your virginity to a…"

"Client, yes… Middle-aged closet case. His wife was supposed to come back home in half an hour, so he was very quick to fuck me. Not the nicest way to lose my virginity, but that evening I got to eat dinner, so it paid off," Blaine said and took a large sip of wine. His chest warmed up immediately and he pushed the memory aside.

"A friend of mine was raped at a party," Kurt began, and Blaine looked up, curious where he was going with it. "In society's eyes she lost her virginity that night. But you know what she told me? She said, 'I will lose my virginity when I choose to – with a person I love and when I consent to it'. So I guess it depends on how you view the concept? I don't think you lost anything that day. You were fighting to survive; that's forced consent."

"I never thought about it that way…" Blaine said, playing with the glass. "Where have you been all my life?" he cracked a smile.

Kurt laughed. "Well, I'm here now. You know, your future boyfriend will be one lucky man. You are an amazing person."

"In a far, far future, maybe," Blaine said, hoping it wouldn't be _that_ far. "It's kind of hard to find someone who would want to be with a guy who fucks other guys for money. Maybe when I'm done with it, someone will want to be with me…"

"I don't see why not. You are smart, funny, caring, and… handsome," Kurt finished with difficulty, blushing at his boldness. Blaine emptied his glass and refilled both his and Kurt's.

He inhaled the smell of the wine deeply, ignoring Kurt's words, and said, "Light cherry and other red berry aromas, with delicate bullshit flavours. On the palate it shows medium tannins, whatever they are, with a delicious finish."

Kurt started laughing. "That's the best Quinn impression," he said and took a tiny sip of the drink. "The taste buds are awakened by the knowledge that the cherry tree was fertilized by fish heads."

"Shit, you are perfect," Blaine laughed.

He didn't notice how close to Kurt he was sitting. Not until the man leaned in and whispered, "I want to kiss you so much right now…"

His hot breath tingled against Blaine's skin, and there was nothing he could do but give in and connect their lips. He could feel Kurt smiling into the kiss, and smiled himself.

Suddenly his pants were wet.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," Kurt apologised, wiping the wine he had spilled on Blaine's pants.

Blaine took Kurt's glass and set both on the coffee table. "No more hazard," he said hoarsely, hoping that Kurt hadn't changed his mind.

He hadn't. Soon their hands roamed each other's bodies and their tongues explored each other's mouths.

"Should we… move upstairs?" Kurt asked.

"Are you sure? We had wine, maybe it's just alcohol talking…" Blaine asked. He needed to be sure Kurt really wanted it. He hoped he did.

"We barely had a glass each. Only enough to give me courage to tell you that I like you and I want you. Tell me you feel the same," Kurt pleaded, looking at him with wide, lustful eyes.

"I do, I really do."

"Let's go," Kurt said, tugging him off the couch.


	9. Ch VI: OF LOVEMAKERS AND CLIENTS I

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by _heartstringsduet_ (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by _47mel47_ (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** **lyingxiscariot** (FFnet), **FangirlingFanatic** (FFnet), and **stulti**.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Weekly on Mondays

 **Chapter notes** : I'm very happy to see so many positive reviews, thank you!

* * *

 **CHAPTER VI: OF LOVEMAKERS AND CLIENTS I**

Blaine couldn't believe it was happening. One moment he was on the couch sipping wine with Kurt and next thing he knew he was in his bed, writhing under Kurt's naked body. What had started as a heated making out grew into Kurt teasing him by slowly abusing his nipples.

"Kurt," he whined, tugging on the man's hair.

"Patience," was the only word Kurt murmured before making his way down Blaine's body until his tongue reached his bellybutton and dipped inside.

"Shit…"

"I love how vocal you are," Kurt said looking up through his long eyelashes. "Music to my ears."

Blaine looked mesmerized as Kurt's mouth left his belly and slid further down. With the first kiss placed on the underside of his cock, Kurt's intentions were made clear and Blaine remembered something vital.

"Stop," he breathed, and added when he saw Kurt's questioning look, "I haven't gotten tested after my last few clients. I always use protection but I don't want to risk it."

"Thank you for the warning," Kurt said, smiling softly at him. "I guess I'll just have to do… this instead," he smirked before attacking Blaine's inner thigh in short suctions.

"Oh shi… fuck…" Blaine moaned as his hand flew into Kurt's hair, but this time he didn't intend to stop Kurt from what he was doing. "So good…"

"Mmm," Kurt detached his lips for a moment. "Can I give you a hickey?"

"Yeah, just, please, keep going," he said closing his eyes, revelling on the feeling of teeth gently nibbling his inner thigh.

After years of having sex he thought he knew everything that was to know about his body and its reactions, but Kurt was proving him wrong.

Soft fingers encircled his cock and started jerking him lazily. Combined with Kurt still sucking and biting his sensitive flesh, it didn't take long for Blaine's cock to harden.

"When was the last time someone made love to you?" Kurt purred, coming back up his body and straddling his hips.

"Never," Blaine whispered, reaching out to touch Kurt's cock but his hand was swatted away.

"I'm gonna change that," he promised before pressing his tongue into Blaine's mouth. The latter's hands instinctively flew to Kurt's ass and squeezed his cheeks. "Mm, how desperate are you to be inside me?"

"Inside?" Blaine asked, baffled.

"Oh… should have discussed this earlier…" Kurt said with an uneasy chuckle, raising himself up a little. "I almost exclusively bottom. Please, tell me you are okay with topping 'cause I really want your cock in me right now."

"Of course, it's fine, I just haven't topped much," he explained while his fingers found Kurt's hole and started massaging the rim gently.

"Well, good thing I love riding then. Mm, a little harder…"

"Patience," Blaine smirked deviously and proceeded with soft ministrations.

Kurt laughed and leaned down to kiss his neck. "My love for teasing goes both ways so be my guest," he said and Blaine could feel him smiling against his skin.

"Oh, I will," Blaine promised and made sure to keep his word.

He took extra time preparing Kurt until he was shamelessly fucking himself on his fingers, begging for Blaine's cock. And even then Blaine didn't go straight for condom. Instead, he tried to prolong the foreplay, but Kurt wasn't having it.

"I take my words back, no more teasing," he panted, grabbing the condom Blaine had put on the nightstand. "Still sure you want to do this?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want this. Well, I would because it's my bedroom but you know what I–" his words were cut off by Kurt's careful fingers rolling a condom on his cock. "Shit…"

"Wait until you feel _me_ around your cock," Kurt said, coating Blaine's cock with lube.

"So full of yourself, Hummel…"

"No, full of you," Kurt smirked and finally lowered himself on Blaine, slowly taking every inch of his cock.

He started a slow pace, driving Blaine crazy until he was a mess. It was too slow, not enough.

"Kurt," Blaine whined when Kurt slowed down for what seemed to be the millionth time. "Please…"

"You can take control. I'm not a client, you don't have to just take what I give you," after a while Kurt whispered into his mouth. "Fuck, make _me_ take it, Blaine."

Something snapped inside him and he realised something vital. They both wanted to make each other feel good. His pleasure was as important to Kurt as his was to him. In this bed they were _equals_. For the first time he felt safe being intimate with someone.

It felt like love making.

Kurt wanted him to take control and he did. He flipped them over easily, drawing out a grunt from Kurt, and started to fuck him slowly. He didn't want it to end any time soon.

"Thought you didn't like going slowly," Kurt said, locking his legs around Blaine's waist and helping him move.

"Yeah, but you do," he said and kissed him softly. He could feel Kurt smiling into the kiss again. It was his new favourite thing about the man.

"What if I say I want fast and hard now?"

"Then you will get fast and hard," Blaine said and immediately picked up the pace.

Kurt's laugh turned into a moan. "Fuck, harder… feels so good…"

The world ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, taking care of each other. Only the touch of skin and lips moving against each other. Blaine wished he could stay in that moment forever.

Sadly, it was over too soon.

Too soon they reached orgasm. Too soon they untangled their limbs. Too soon Kurt left.

Alone in the bed, Blaine suddenly felt vulnerable as never before. He had just shared a part of himself with Kurt and got something special in return. He didn't think it was possible for him to feel loved but in this moment he did.

He didn't notice how he started crying.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, climbing back on the bed with a wet cloth. "Hey, look at me."

Blaine turned his head to the side and saw Kurt's worried face. "It's embarrassing, I'm sorry," he said, wiping the tears quickly, but a new stream appeared. "It's nothing bad, I promise."

"Alright," Kurt said unconvinced. "Let me just…" he said and with careful touch cleaned up the mess off Blaine's body. He then threw the cloth somewhere on the ground and wavered for a moment. "Can I sleep with you tonight? I feel like cuddling…"

"Sure," Blaine hiccupped and got off bed so they both could get under covers.

Kurt turned the light off and got in bed, drawing Blaine closer. "There is nothing wrong with letting emotions out," he said, playing with Blaine's curls gently. "Some say it's healthy even."

"How many guys cried after having sex with you?" Blaine asked, wiping his nose with the blanket. He knew it was disgusting, but he didn't care.

"You are the first one," Kurt admitted. "Only makes it more special. It means I managed to wake something up inside you."

"You have no idea how perfect you are…" Blaine said and snuggled closer to the man, placing his ear on his chest.

He fell asleep to the music of Kurt's heart.

Next day when he woke up and Kurt wasn't in his bed Blaine knew something was wrong. His hopeful side told him that Kurt probably had had to make a phone call or maybe he had gone to the bathroom, but deep inside he knew it wasn't the case. He just _knew_ that Kurt already regretted spending the night with him. Yet, a tiny part of him didn't want to believe it.

He couldn't face the world. Instead Blaine moved to the side of the bed where Kurt had slept and tried to fall asleep again. Just so he could live in the fantasy for a little bit longer. But anxiety of facing Kurt didn't let him rest.

Breakfast was awkward at the very best for Blaine. Nothing was different from the other meals he had shared with Kurt, but now he dozed off more often than before. It didn't help staying focused when any time Kurt opened his mouth, he remembered how it had felt on his body. Whenever he licked his lips, Blaine was reminded of how expertly it had explored his mouth last night. And when Kurt bent to pick up a fork that had fallen on the ground, a memory of fondling his ass flashed in Blaine's mind.

The memories were not the only reason why it was difficult for Blaine to keep a conversation flowing. He had no idea what to say to the person who had made love to him so he let Kurt take the lead. They talked about weather and weekly cleaning mostly. Not what Blaine had imagined.

Throughout the day Kurt was acting strangely. That's what Blaine thought about Kurt acting _normally_. The men went about his Saturday routine just as any other weekend. They cooked and cleaned, and did all other ordinary tasks with some small talk. Numerous times Blaine wanted to bring up the topic of the previous night, but Kurt always found a way to change it. Or he pretended to not hear what Blaine was saying.

It was nearing night when Blaine finally lost patience.

"Why are you acting like nothing has happened?" he demanded when he met Kurt in the kitchen. The man was already wearing his pyjamas, getting ready to turn in early.

"Because nothing has?" Kurt said uncertainly.

"We had sex!" Blaine yelled.

Kurt sighed and leaned back on the counter for support. "I was afraid this might happen," he said heavily.

" _This_?" Blaine looked at him confused.

"Yes, this. You going crazy over what was clearly a mistake," Kurt said simply. Blaine didn't recognize the cold tone in his voice.

" _Clearly_ ," he spat with disgust.

"Look," Kurt looked at him tiredly, "it was very unprofessional of me to... get involved with you. I'm sorry if you expected something to come out of it. It was just a one night stand for me and so there is nothing to talk about. I should have told you this in the morning. Sorry."

"Oh, well, yeah, it was a one time thing for me too," Blaine nodded hurriedly. "I had to create a fantasy in my head just to get hard. Wouldn't want to go through that again anyway."

He knew he wasn't convincing anyone.

"Didn't sound like that to me," Kurt cocked his head.

"You would be surprised how well prostitutes can act when it comes to satisfying a client," Blaine winked at him seductively. "I'll better get going. Have stuff to do. Goodnight."

With that he turned on his heel and went upstairs.

He was so stupid. He couldn't believe he had let himself hope that he had any chance with Kurt. Of course he was a one night stand for him. Kurt just wanted to get off.

Blaine laughed to himself.

He was convenient for Kurt. He was a free whore for him. A slut, who was willing to fuck free of charge.

He heard Kurt's steps from the hallway. He was so close. Too close. Blaine needed to get out.

Grabbing his wallet, he checked how much cash he had. Enough.

He got into some nicer clothes and left the room. Kurt spotted him when he was already tying his shoes.

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked him.

"Out," Blaine said and didn't care to elaborate. He had been granted freedom. _Fuck you, Kurt._

"When are you coming back?"

"I don't know," he shrugged and without a glance left. He heard Kurt calling after him, but ignored him.

He got out of the house with no plan where he was going. It was dark already but he didn't care. He absent-mindedly moved forward and it was all that he needed – to get as far away from Kurt as he could. A city bus passing by offered him such opportunity.

Blaine didn't even notice how he got there but soon he was entering a night club full of people. He smiled to himself. This was what he needed. To get loose, to forget Kurt.

With the little money he had he went up to the bar and ordered six shots of vodka. A strong heartbreak required a strong drink.

"Why the long face?" some guy sat next to him not long after.

"What do you want?" Blaine asked, not looking at the man. He downed the third shot. He knew he was drinking too fast, but the burning in his throat made him feel alive.

"This weird dude with glittering clothes pointed you out for me. I saw you drinking your sorrows away and thought I should come see why such a beautiful man is so sad. So what's up?"

"Trying to heal a broken heart," Blaine said and emptied another shot glass. "This is disgusting."

"Alcohol normally is. What's your name, gorgeous?"

"Bl-Brian."

"Nice to meet you, _Brian_ ," the guy smirked as if knowing his secret. "I'm Sebastian, the best doctor for broken hearts. Care to dance with me?"

"Why the hell not," Blaine downed the last two shots and threw the glasses on the bar.

Sebastian took his hand and dragged him onto the dance floor. Blaine swung his arms around his neck while Sebastian's found his waist. They began dancing, but their knees kept bumping and the guy's face annoyed him so much that soon Blaine turned in his arms and started dancing on his own.

He felt free. He could feel Sebastian behind him, but it didn't matter. He was alone in the crowd, only him and music. His vision was becoming less and less focused so he closed his eyes to stop the world from spinning. As soon as the song changed into something slower, he felt Sebastian's lips on his neck and his cock grinding against his ass.

"You are so hot," Sebastian purred into his ear. "Want to go to my place?" he asked and then bit his earlobe.

Blaine almost laughed. This guy wanted to fuck him. For _free_. No, he wasn't a free whore. "Sixty for a fuck," he said, turning around in the man's arms.

"What?" Sebastian looked at him confused. People can be so dumb.

"Sixty for a fuck, thirty for a blowjob," Blaine slurred slowly, to make sure that Sebastian understood him this time. "Fine, I'll give you a heartbreak discount even. Seventy for both. Also because you are hot."

"So you want me to pay you for sex?" the guy was still trying to catch up.

Blaine nodded. The song started playing faster and he kept nodding to the rhythm. Music was magic.

"Oh, didn't see that one coming…" Sebastian looked at him dumbfounded. "Okay, let's get to my car, shall we?"

"Oh yes, sexy," Blaine said, ghosting his hand over the other's crotch. He would forget Kurt and earn money. He happily followed the man.

They walked over to what he assumed was Sebastian's car, Blaine leaning on him as the path suddenly became so uneven he almost tripped three times. He wondered how it happened so quickly. Probably some evil elves did it.

"Oops," Blaine laughed as he fell on Sebastian's car. He wondered if a shove had something to do with his misbalance.

He stopped laughing when he felt the man grabbing his wrists behind his back and locking them into handcuffs.

"Bondage costs extra," he said annoyed. He hated when his clients did things without asking him first. He hated everything his clients did to him.

"I'm Officer Sebastian Smythe. You are under arrest for an attempt to sell sexual services. You have the right to remain…"

 _Fuck_ , Blaine cursed inwardly and closed his eyes. As soon as Kurt found out about this, he was a dead man. Or maybe Sebastian was into role-play. Domething told him it wasn't the case.

Sebastian helped him into the backseat and went to the driver's seat. "Sorry, beautiful, I wish I didn't have to do this."

"You don't," Blaine fumbled, quickly finding a comfortable position as he had been driven to a police station handcuffed numerous times.

"Had it been just a one night stand I would have gladly taken you home. But you were propositioning to a police officer and even though I'm not on duty tonight, it's my job to take you in. I really wish I could have just fucked you."

"What if I do it for free now? Will you let me go?" Blaine asked hopeful. He didn't like the idea but he'd rather get fucked without pay than suffer Kurt's lecture. Or maybe Kurt would be jealous when he found out Blaine wanted to have sex with someone else. That would show him.

"No, sorry…"

"My husband will be sooo angry…" Blaine said, resting his head on the seat. The cold leather felt nice. Maybe he could sleep there.

"The one who caused the heartbreak?"

"Mhm… He's so sweet and funny and hot… but he doesn't want to be with me…"

"Ouch, he's filing for divorce?" Sebastian asked with sympathy.

Blaine ignored the question. "If only he loved me… Can you imagine how nice it would be if someone loved you? _Mutual love_ … that would be so nice, so nice, even awesome…"

"That's some fucked up marriage you are in, beautiful."

"Best marriage ever…" Blaine argued silently.

"If you say so. We are here. I'll help you out," Sebastian promised and so he did.

Soon Blaine found himself in a blurry police station, sitting by Sebastian's desk. Still handcuffed. He hated bondage.

"Do you have any ID on you?" the stupid face asked him.

"No…" Blaine shook his head. The world was pinning again. He stopped shaking his head but the spinning didn't stop.

"Just tell me your full name then. I will try to find you in the system. I need to file the report, you will have to pay a fine, and then you can go home."

"You won't tell my husband?" Blaine's eyes widened comically. There was hope for him.

"That won't be necessary."

"You are so cool... Look up Blaine An… No, Brian Thompson," Blaine caught himself in time. He started giggling. He almost gave himself away. If Sebastian worked for Changs he would be dead now. He didn't know why he found it so funny.

"Where were you born?" Sebastian asked amused. Blaine didn't like people laughing at him. His life wasn't a joke.

"Ohio…"

"Date of birth?"

"Summer?" Blaine thought hard, but couldn't remember the exact day or month. Brian was such an unremarkable person.

"Eleventh of July?"

"Yup. I think."

"Oh…"

"That's a bad 'oh'…" Blaine frowned. He didn't like Sebastian's bad 'oh'. Not at all.

"It says here that in cases of arrest it's compulsory to contact Kevin Thompson. That's your husband?"

"Yeah. You will tell him?" Blaine glared at the man. He thought they were friends and now Sebastian betrayed him. His heart was breaking all over again.

"Apparently I have to. It doesn't say why, but I have no choice. I'm really sorry."

Sebastian apologised. Kurt hadn't. He liked Sebastian. He didn't like Kurt.

"Okay..." he nodded understandingly.

"I will need to lock you up until he comes to pick you up."

"Okay…" he nodded again. He was so sleepy. Maybe Kurt would cuddle him to sleep again. Kurt was so warm.

Sebastian locked him somewhere. He saw Kurt. A very angry Kurt. He was… in a car probably. The sheets were so soft. Life was good again.

Until it wasn't.


	10. Ch VI: OF LOVEMAKERS AND CLIENTS II

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by _heartstringsduet_ (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by _47mel47_ (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** **lyingxiscariot** (FFnet), **FangirlingFanatic** (FFnet), and **stulti**.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Weekly on Sundays or Mondays

* * *

 **CHAPTER VI: Of LOVEMAKERS AND CLIENTS II**

Blaine's head was pounding. He groaned and rolled onto his back, immediately regretting the action. The movement caused his stomach to churn and he realised just how sick he was. His mouth was dry and felt like shit. There was a cramp in his stomach and Blaine ran to the bathroom as quickly as his disorientated body allowed and kneeled above the toilet.

There wasn't much in his stomach so he puked some liquid until he was mostly just dry heaving. He never hated himself more.

 _Never again_ , he thought and stood up. He rinsed his mouth with cold water and only then noticed he was only in his underwear. Kurt must have helped him out of clothes. _Fuck._

He didn't want to see Kurt, but he desperately needed some water and aspirin or his head would kill him otherwise. If he was silent maybe Kurt wouldn't notice him.

He put some clothes on and silently made his way to the kitchen. Where Kurt was waiting.

"Look who is finally up," Kurt smiled coldly and poured some coke into a tall glass

"Morning," Blaine managed, his own voice unrecognisable for himself.

"Drink this," he said, pushing the glass of the carbonated drink towards Blaine.

"I don't like coke," Blaine said. "I just want water."

"Well, I'm so furious with you right now that I don't give a fuck what you like or what you want. Drink it," he raised his voice. Blaine's head was about to explode.

Reluctantly he took the glass just to stop Kurt from shouting and slowly drank it all. He burped loudly, too exhausted to care about Kurt being just a few feet away.

"So, had fun last night?" Kurt asked, faking interest.

"Don't yell," Blaine asked. Kurt was so loud…

"Oh, I haven't started yelling yet," Kurt smiled, but soon his face turned into fury. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," Blaine admitted and sat down on the kitchen chair. He didn't have energy to stand.

"Well, obviously. Otherwise you wouldn't have offered a police officer to fuck you for money!"

"I didn't know he was an officer," Blaine defended himself even though he knew his argument was weak.

"It doesn't matter. You didn't tell me where you were going and I was worried sick. And then I got a call in the middle of the night asking me to come take my drunken husband from a police station because he was charged with prostitution!"

"What are you really angry about, Kurt, huh?" Blaine asked, looking at the man equally coldly. "That I went out alone and got drunk or that I almost fucked someone?"

"Of course because you broke the rules–" Kurt said taken aback.

"I was allowed to go out. And I went out because of _you_. I couldn't stand being in the same house with you," he spat angrily.

"So out of all possibilities you decided to go and whore yourself out?"

"So what if I did? You said you didn't want to be with me so I'm free to fuck whoever I want!" Blaine yelled, ignoring his aching head altogether.

" _Free_? I didn't know whores fuck for free," Kurt laughed hysterically. "How much do I owe you for the last night?"

Blaine's heart missed a beat. "Fuck you," Blaine said slowly, anger oozing out of him but his voice still broke.

The look on Kurt's face told him he hadn't planned on saying it and he instantly felt guilty about it, but Blaine didn't care. He got up and left. He had nothing more to say to the man.

He wanted to cry. Back in his bedroom he crawled in his bed and curled up in a fetal position. And he cried. He cried because his childhood was stolen from him. He cried because his body wasn't really his. He cried because nobody cared for him. And most importantly, because his heart was shattered by the only man who had ever made love to him.

He didn't feel like a human being. Words 'cheap' and 'free' were not supposed to be used describing a person. They were used talking about things. That's what he was. _A thing_. Something to use and throw away. Exactly what Kurt had done.

He felt sick again and had to leave the comfort of the blankets. Throwing up over the toilet he heard a knock on the door, followed by Kurt's voice.

"Blaine? I'm really sorry for what I said, okay? I only said those things because I knew they would hurt you the most. I didn't mean any of it. I was angry and… jealous."

Blaine ignored him. Tears were stinging his eyes as much as Kurt's words earlier had stung his heart.

"Please, can we talk about it?"

He didn't want to talk. Kurt had said enough.

A new wave of sickness hit him and his coughing overshadowed Kurt's further words.

"Blaine, are you alright? Please, let me in."

"I'm fine," Blaine responded. Not for Kurt's benefit. He just feared that Kurt had an extra key to his room. He didn't have any doubts actually.

"You don't sound fine," Kurt said. "Do you want some water or chicken soup? I can make some."

The thought alone made Blaine dry heave again. "No," he mumbled.

"I could bring you more coke. It always helps me with hangover."

"Leave me alone, Kurt," Blaine said on his way back to the bed. He desperately wanted to sleep some more.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me," Kurt insisted.

Blaine growled and unlocked the door. He didn't pay attention at Kurt and just went back to bed, where he sat against the headboard. Hopefully it would soon be over.

"Talk," he said, glaring at the man.

Kurt walked into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed tentatively. "First of all, I'm sorry for what I've said. It was cruel of me."

"It was," Blaine nodded. "You can't tell me you don't judge me for my occupation, and then turn around and call me a cheap whore."

"You are right," Kurt said. "I made a mistake and I'm sorry."

"Seems you have been making lots of mistakes recently," Blaine grimaced.

"It was wrong of me to tell you that you were a mistake. I should have worded it differently," Kurt said.

Blaine took a deep breath. "It wasn't a mistake, not for me. Last night we did what I can only call making love. Shit, _you_ called it that. And I don't have much experience when it comes to being with someone you care about so it was… special to me. And then you spat on my face."

"I'm sorry," Kurt interrupted in a low whisper.

"I didn't expect someone like you to want to be with someone like me. I'm not stupid. But it still hurt when you said I was a _mistake_. Might as well thrown some coins at me, it would have hurt less," he said, letting out a shaky laugh.

"I should have said something different–"

"No. What you actually want to say is 'I shouldn't have slept with you'."

"It's not… not _that_ ," Kurt said. "I don't regret last night. It was… I wouldn't take it back, you know? I just wish the situation had been different or at least that I had handled it better. I was hoping to have a proper conversation but then you… left…" he finished accusatorily.

"Don't blame me for leaving. So what, I needed to let go for one night. And I thought why not dance the night away to forget you?"

"Dancing for a couple of hours is different from getting drunk and arrested," Kurt reminded him.

"I drank to forget. I was angry at you. So when this guy I danced with asked me if I wanted to go to his place, I agreed. But then I thought, 'why blow him for free?' and so I asked him to pay me. It's not my fault he was a cop."

"Okay, let's not talk about it; I'm still angry at you for that."

"Whatever," Blaine yawned. He couldn't care less what Kurt felt. At least that's what he lied to himself.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like your only option was alcohol. I really like you and last night was special to me too. But it would be unethical–"

Blaine almost laughed at the excuse. "Did you think about ethics when you were riding me?"

"No…" Kurt said in a small voice.

"What were you thinking then?" Blaine asked.

"Blaine…"

"What were you thinking about when you were with me?" he demanded, adamant on getting the answer.

"I thought how amazing you were, okay?" Kurt admitted. "How strong and caring. How any guy would be lucky to have you, but there you were – with me. And how… how hot you were. And how good it felt to have you inside me. And how much I wanted to show you what a loving sex is. And… and how it truly felt like love making."

"And yet you don't want to be with me," Blaine stated. He didn't need to ask when he knew already.

"It could jeopardize everything," Kurt argued weakly. He didn't sound convinced himself.

"Jeopardize what? Nothing has happened since I came here. Changs are laying low, they won't hurt me. We will just stay here until the trial, which will probably be soon and then–"

"And then I will be assigned to watch over another witness," Kurt said and it finally clicked. That's what Kurt was really scared about.

"And I will go back to the streets trying to make a living. But can't we just enjoy ourselves while we can?" Blaine asked, taking his hand hesitantly.

Kurt ran his thumb over Blaine's hand. "And break each other's hearts?" he asked, looking at their linked hands.

"I'm willing to risk it if you are…" Blaine admitted. His heart started racing as if it was about to jump out of his chest.

"I have… been kind of weighing pros and cons for a while now," Kurt said with a sad smile. "It's sort of a tie."

"Can't believe you found some pros," Blaine laughed depreciatingly.

"You would be surprised by how many," Kurt smiled at him softly.

"I probably blew any chance I had had."

"You didn't do yourself a favour, that's for sure," Kurt laughed. Blaine smiled at him.

"As long as you don't hate me, it's okay…"

"I don't if you don't," Kurt shook his head. "Um, to get back into your good books I could show you the photo of Lucas that Cooper posted last night."

Blaine raised the covers, wordlessly offering Kurt to join him in bed. Kurt jumped at the invitation and got under the blanket. He unlocked his phone and quickly found ' _twitter'_.

"I've been following your brother for a while now," Kurt said to fill in the silence. "Before I was even assigned to your case. He is pretty talented."

"He is," Blaine said. "He used to give me some lessons when were still kids."

"Were you two close growing up?" Kurt asked when he loaded the photo and gave it to Blaine who drank in the image of the baby.

 _I am growing up! And puking/pooping/peeing on daddy all the time #andpeoplestillfindmeadorable_

Blaine laughed at the tweet. "Not really. He is ten years older than me so we had our differences. I was that baby brother who wanted to tag along with my older brother. What teenager ever likes that?"

"True, he would have looked less cool," Kurt laughed.

"I don't think so. He would have made it work. He was a popular kid, liked by everyone. Even my dad loved him," Blaine said. He had always envied Cooper for that.

"From your mother's statement I figured your dad never touched Cooper," Kurt began when Blaine gave him his phone back. "Why _you_?"

"I have been asking myself that same question for years," Blaine said thoughtfully. "Maybe because I was an unplanned child. Family finances were not that good when I was little. So maybe he held a grudge toward me for being born and my mother for letting it happen? Or maybe he had known I was gay before I came out and got angry at us. It doesn't matter now. I'm just glad he didn't hurt Cooper."

"Have you tried telling him about the beatings?"

"Numerous times," he said tiredly. "He didn't believe me. I don't blame him though. Our mother was on dad's side for some reason. She told Cooper I just wanted attention."

"How did he react to you coming out? He promotes the 'Trevor Project' now, you know," Kurt asked.

"He didn't make a big deal out of it," Blaine shrugged. "It was a very short conversation really. I told him I was gay over the phone and he said 'okay, cool, have to go to class' and that's it. He didn't have time to talk to me for the next two months and I thought he hated me. But when he came visiting, he was acting as he normally would towards me."

"Do you think you will seek him out when witness protection is over?"

"I don't know," Blaine said. He was tired of thinking and talking already. "Um, my headache is getting worse. Is it okay if I take a short nap?" he not-so-subtly asked Kurt to leave.

"Sure, of course," Kurt hurried to get out of bed. "Want me to bring you some aspirin first?"

"No, I'll sleep it off," Blaine said and followed Kurt with his eyes. "And for the record, you were incredible in bed. I… didn't need any fantasies," he said before settling in bed.

"It takes two to tango," Kurt said with a smile and left the room.

The nap helped. When Blaine woke up for the second time that day he felt a little bit more alive. His headache was gone and he didn't feel like throwing up. However, he was so thirsty he could drink a whole lake if he was given a chance.

On his way to the kitchen, Blaine noticed that Kurt's bedroom door was open and a silent voice was coming out of it. He didn't mean to eavesdrop. Yet he couldn't make his legs move once he overheard his name.

"I know I messed up with Blaine, but it was just a onetime thing, boss, I promise…" Kurt said. Blaine couldn't believe he had actually admitted to the higher ups that they had had sex. "I was thinking of setting a curfew to make sure he is home every night…" so it wasn't _that_. "No, I doubt it's necessary. Blaine loves being able to get out of the house and he enjoys working with kids. It's good for him. We would do more harm if we took it away from him. Not to mention that the neighbours would get suspicious..."

Blaine never realised how stupid it truly was for him to go out like that. Kurt could be assigned to another witness or fired because he couldn't keep him in tow. He himself could lose the privilege of working. So many things could go wrong now. And Kurt was fighting so they wouldn't.

"I'll do everything in my power to make sure he doesn't wander off again…" Kurt promised the person on the line. "Yes, of course, thank you... Um, yes, actually it's not the only thing I was calling you about. Can we drop the formalities and talk like father and son? I need your advice…"

It was Blaine's cue to leave. Kurt talking to his superior about the case was one thing. Kurt talking to his _dad_ about a personal issue was off limits. He ignored his dry mouth and silently walked back into his bedroom. He would have made too much noise walking down the stairs. Kurt might have thought he was listening on his private conversation.

The rest of Blaine's Sunday was spent in bed. Even with small health improvements he didn't feel like doing anything. Kurt respected his wish and didn't ask his help in anything. Several times throughout the day he came to check on Blaine, offering food or drinks. Blaine accepted water gratefully.

No matter how much Blaine loved teaching kids the theatre, he was ecstatic to remember that he wasn't expected to come in on Monday. He needed to prepare for auditions and rehearsals and he hadn't done any of that over the weekend.

He had to be more responsible. Those kids saw him as a role model after all.

In the morning Blaine had gotten up earlier than he normally would and prepared breakfast before Kurt was even awake. Blaine had caused him trouble and so he was ready to work to earn Kurt's forgiveness. They both were at fault, but Kurt had done his part, taking care of his hangover. Now it was Blaine's turn.

He didn't bring Kurt breakfast to bed. It was something couples did, not two housemates after a one night stand. So he waited until Kurt joined him in the kitchen.

"Good morning," Kurt said surprised, looking at the glass of smoothie ready on the table with waffles sitting next to it.

"Morning," Blaine smiled at him.

"What's this about? Any special occasion?"

Blaine shrugged. "No. I just woke up early and thought I could make something different for breakfast. Still made a smoothie in case you don't want waffles."

"Waffles are fine," Kurt assured him, sitting down by the table. "Smells really good."

"I hope they taste just as good," Blaine said as they dug in. Blaine kept an eye on Kurt's face to make sure he liked the dish.

"I hope you wake up early more often," Kurt said when he finished eating. "These waffles were freaking amazing."

"I'm glad you liked it," Blaine said, taking Kurt's plate and cutlery away. "I'm sort of trying to win my way back into your good books. I'm sorry I made you worry and got in trouble."

"You have chosen the right approach to apologise," Kurt laughed. "You know, I've been thinking a lot about our conversation yesterday…"

"Which part?" Blaine asked absent-mindedly.

"The being together part," Kurt said gingerly. "I managed to find another pro."

"Yeah?" Blaine asked, his mouth suddenly going as dry as the day before, but for different reasons. It was a tie yesterday, according to Kurt.

"M-hm, so I thought we could go out on Saturday. And I mean, like, on a date maybe?" Kurt asked shyly.

"Wait, are you serious? You want to… _date_ me?" Blaine had to clarify before responding to the offer.

"Yes. I weighed all the pros and cons and I think we should give it a try. So…" Kurt said and cleared his throat, "Blaine Anderson, will you do me an honour and go out with me?"

"Oh, I don't know..." he pretended to be thinking hard.

"What?" Kurt was taken aback. He obviously expected an excited 'yes'.

"Just joking, of course I will go out with you," Blaine smiled at him widely. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"Something simple? A movie and dinner perhaps?"

"You are as lame as Kevin," Blaine rolled his eyes playfully. "We watch movies and eat together all the time."

"Fine, mister genius, what do _you_ want to do?" Kurt challenged.

"You asked me out so I will leave it for you to figure out," he grinned mischievously.

"Not fair," Kurt pouted at him.

"Just so you know, puppy eyes won't work on me," Blaine said unimpressed.

"Fine, but if I get a stroke, trying to figure out how to sweep you off your feet, it falls on your conscience," Kurt warned him.

"I'm willing to risk it," Blaine said, much to Kurt's disappointment. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to go prepare for tomorrow's class. And I think you have a perfect date to plan, isn't that right?"

"That's right. I'm going to plan the most amazing date for you," Kurt promised with certainty.

And so he did, but Sugar had different plans. On Tuesday she approached a very happy Blaine after the theatre class.

"Hi, how were the kids today?" she asked him in the teacher's lounge.

"Amazing as always," Blaine beamed at her. "I've been asking around if any teachers would like to be judges during auditions on Friday. Would you like to join?"

"Absolutely, you are a sweetheart," Sugar said clearly touched by the offer. "I wanted to ask you something else, to be honest. What are your and Kevin's plans for this weekend?"

"We are having a date night on Saturday," Blaine replied excitedly. He still couldn't believe he was going on an actual date with none other but Kurt.

"No, you are not," Sugar shook her head.

"Excuse me?"

"You are going to our lake house for the weekend. We are leaving on Friday. You can carpool with Starchild, he says he is excited to drive with you. Quinn and Puck are coming with me and Artie. It's going to be so much fun! Tell me you are coming."

"Wait, you are giving us a choice? Who are you and what have you done to the real Sugar?" Blaine laughed.

"Fine, I take it back. You _are_ coming. We'll be leaving as soon as Puck and Quinn come back from work so around sixish?" Sugar asked in her commanding voice.

"Well, if I tell Kevin it was you who had forced me to cancel our date, I think he should be fine," Blaine said.

He was reluctant to cancel the date but he couldn't tell Sugar it was their first date. He could always ask Kurt to put the date forward. Wednesday or Thursday would be just as good.

"Brilliant! We'll provide food and drinks… You still drink wine?" Sugar asked and Blaine nodded. "Perfect. All you need to bring are yourselves and maybe something comfy to wear and sleep in. Oh, and let Starchild know if you want to carpool with him."

"Will do," Blaine said. "Are you sure we shouldn't bring anything else? We could bring drinks. Or pitch in for food. You don't have to buy everything yourselves."

"Don't worry your beautiful mind, sweetheart, everything is taken care of," Sugar said. Her phone started ringing and she dug it out of her purse. "Sorry, have to run," she said and kissed his cheek. "See you later!"

"Bye," Blaine hurried to say before she answered the phone.

He was on his way out of school when he heard hurried steps behind him and someone calling for him.

"Mr. Brian! Wait up," Beth's voice sounded around the building.

Blaine turned around to see her with Puck, walking towards him in quick steps. "Hey, Puck," he greeted the man and shook his hand. "Beth, did you forget something in class?"

"Yes, I forgot to give you… this," the girl said, blushing heavily, and extended a small bag she had been carrying.

Blaine ducked and accepted the gift. "And what could this be?"

"We were making mugs with Ms. Pillsbury and I made it for you," she said shyly, waiting for his reaction.

He carefully took the handcrafted mug out of the bag and gasped. "Oh my, this is amazing!" he exclaimed, turning the dark green mug with the phrase 'best teacher' written on it. He couldn't help but tear up. "It's absolutely amazing. Thank you so much," he said, pulling the girl in a tight hug.

"I don't know what you do with the kids," Puck said, "but on the days she has theatre Beth wakes up much earlier because she is just too excited to sleep."

"She seems to enjoy acting so it must be that," Blaine replied modestly. He got up to face the man. "And she is talented. You might want to look into that."

"I'll leave it to Quinn. She is in charge of Beth's education," Puck said. "Have you talked to Sugar yet?"

"About the weekend? I did. I just need to talk to Kevin but I'm sure he will be on board with the idea," Blaine said.

"Cool," the man nodded slowly. "Do you need a ride? We are going home."

"Thanks but Kurt should be here soon. Too late to tell him not to come," Blaine said without thinking.

"Kurt?" Puck asked confused.

 _Shit._ "Ah, yeah, a friend of mine," he lied quickly. "Never mentioned him before probably."

"You might have. I don't have the best memory anyway," Puck shrugged. "Alright, we should get going then. See you later."

"Bye, Mr. Brian," Beth said, waving at him.

"Bye, guys," Blaine said and sighed, relieved that Puck bought his lie.

"Brian? Can I have a word with you?" someone asked and Blaine saw his colleague Will Schuester coming up to him.

"Sure," Blaine welcomed him with a smile. "Having second thoughts about being a judge for the auditions?"

"On the contrary," Will said. "My kids at the glee club heard how amazing your theatre class was and wanted to know if we could collaborate?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"What would you say about incorporating a couple of musical numbers in the play?" Will suggested and seeing Blaine's hesitance, elaborated, "Your theatre kids would play all the roles. But if, let's say, there is a scene where a character is travelling somewhere, my glee club could provide a song for the journey? Think about it, okay?"

"Anything for the kids," Blaine said sincerely, already thinking where he could use live music.

"Perfect," Will clapped his hands excitedly. "See you tomorrow?"

"Definitely. I'll think about the musical numbers and ask my kids if they would be up for that," Blaine promised. "I'll let you know after the class."

"Seriously?" Will looked at him questioningly. "It's up to you, not the kids."

"I'm all for it, but first I want to know what they think," Blaine explained. "They are the stars of the play so it's their opinion that counts the most. You have my vote though."

"Well, thanks," the man hesitated and walked away, "bye."

"Later," Blaine said and finally exited the school with no interference. Kurt was already waiting for him. "Hey there," Blaine said as soon as he got into the car.

"Hi. What do you have there?" Kurt asked, pointing at the bag.

"Beth made me this mug, look," Blaine said and gave it to Kurt, who inspected the mug instantly.

"What a perfect bribe," he said with a teasing smile.

"What? No, I don't think so. She's too little for these things," Blaine frowned. Beth wouldn't think of something like that.

"Just joking," Kurt said and gave him back the mug.

"You are a horrible person, Hummel," Blaine pouted, putting the mug back into the bag for a safer ride.

"And yet you want to be with me. What does that say about you?" Kurt asked him innocently.

"That I'm crazy?" Blaine offered.

"Hm, I like your craziness," Kurt challenged, leaning a little towards him.

"Oh yeah?" Blaine asked, getting closer to the man. Just close enough for a kiss.

"Yeah," Kurt breathed before pecking his lips. "We should continue someplace else, preferably where your colleagues aren't goggling us."

"What?" Blaine asked a little disorientated. Kurt pointed at a man, who was unlocking the car in front of theirs. "Sheldon is cool. But, you are right. We should restrain from making out in a kindergarten car park."

"Home?" Kurt asked when he started the engine.

"Oh shit, no, I forgot… I messed up," he said guiltily. "I might have told Puck that _Kurt_ was picking me up. It will look suspicious if I come home with you almost immediately after he and Beth are back."

"So, do you have any suggestions?"

Blaine thought for a moment. "What if we had an early dinner somewhere?" he asked. "Our date has been cancelled on Saturday after all."

"Why is it cancelled?" Kurt asked, eyeing Blaine almost accusatorily. "Don't you want to go out with me anymore?"

"Of course I do, silly," Blaine laughed. "It's just that we are going to Artie and Sugar's lake house for the weekend."

"We are?"

"Yes, we are."


	11. Ch VII: OF BOYFRIENDS AND BROTHERS I

**Cover image** : **heartstringsduet . tumblr post / 123230057501** by _heartstringsduet_ (tumblr)

 **Video** : **youtu . be / mX08FHQeosI** by _47mel47_ (tumblr)

 **Beta-readers:** **lyingxiscariot** (FFnet), **FangirlingFanatic** (FFnet), and **stulti**.

 **Summary** : Blaine Anderson is a prostitute whose client is murdered before his eyes. He is thrown into witness protection together with Special Agent Kurt Hummel, whose job is to keep him safe. But, with nosy neighbours and a notorious crime family snapping at their heels, it's not that easy. Especially when feelings get involved.

 **Warnings** : Dub/con, alcohol use, minor OMC death, mention of child abuse, mention of domestic violence, mention of various kinks

 **Pairings** : Kurt/Blaine, Sugar/Artie, Quinn/Puck, Cooper/OFC

 **Length** : 65k; 16 parts altogether

 **Updates** : Changed from weekly to whenever-I-have-time-and-access-to-internet-ly

* * *

 **CHAPTER VII:** **OF BOYFRIENDS AND BROTHERS I**

While Blaine called Kurt's dinner date idea lame, he not-so-secretly enjoyed it.

They ended up finding a small, cosy Italian restaurant not very far from home. There weren't too many people at that hour so they got themselves a nice table and the waiter's full attention. Uplifting music was playing in the background so they managed to keep the conversation light.

It was perfect.

Kurt was perfect.

After the dinner they didn't hurry to go back home. They took their time enjoying the nice weather. It was warm considering it was November. They might need to wait until spring for another beautiful day like this.

Walking around a park they had accidentally spotted, Kurt asked the important question.

"What do you think of the date? Not exactly how you envisioned it," he said shyly. "But you looked like you were having fun."

"It was the most amazing, out of this world date I have ever had," Blaine said honestly. "It's not much, since it's the first date I've ever been to, but trust me, I loved it."

"Does that mean you would consider a second date?" Kurt asked somewhat nervously.

Blaine found his hand and gently squeezed it. "Absolutely."

"And would you go on that date as my… boyfriend?" Kurt asked, licking his lips.

Blaine watched as Kurt's tongue disappeared in his mouth and had an urge to follow. "On one condition…"

"What is it?"

"I get to kiss you right now," he said breathlessly.

"Anytime," Kurt said and soon he was pulling Blaine toward himself, his hand firm on his neck.

Blaine could never imagine that kissing would feel like this. He never understood what people meant when they said they couldn't get enough of it. Not even with his ex.

It was different with Kurt. Kurt was gentle and careful. He sucked on his tongue and softly bit his lips, teaching him what a loving kiss was.

In that moment Blaine felt loved.

"Rex, no!" someone shouted and Kurt pulled away immediately, leaving Blaine confused.

He looked around to see what was happening. A young girl was running toward them. A small dog was standing next to Kurt. There was a wet spot on the leg of Kurt's pants.

"You got peed on," Blaine was still laughing when they were driving back home with all windows open. "This is priceless."

"Yeah, sure, haha," Kurt muttered, clearly annoyed.

"Lighten up, it's funny," Blaine teased him. "It's not every day that you are confused with a tree."

"So funny," Kurt said sarcastically as he parked the car in front of their house.

"Should I be jealous? That dog marked his territory, right? Are you his now?"

"Can you, please, stop? Enough is enough," he said and they got out of the car.

It shut Blaine up instantly. "Why are you getting angry? It's just a harmless joke," he said, closing the door with a loud bang.

"I'm glad you find it funny. I don't," Kurt rolled his eyes. "Fine, a dog peed on me, I get it, it's funny. You can laugh about it once or twice but not the whole ride home."

"A dog peed on you, Kevin?" Starchild's voice cut in and Blaine saw him rising from behind the fence. "Did you know that in some cultures–"

"I don't know and I don't want to know," Kurt snapped and turned around, making his way into the house.

"Trouble in paradise?" Starchild asked, looking at him curiously. "I hope things are not as bad as with Quinn and Puck?"

"No, it was just a stupid fight," Blaine said, feeling down. He didn't plan to fight with Kurt minutes after their first date. He had a talent for ruining things. "I should go apologise."

"Let him cool down first," Starchild advised. "Why don't we go watch football? Give him space, you know."

"As awesome as it sounds," and it really did; Blaine enjoyed hanging out with the guy, "I don't want Kevin to get any angrier. I'll go grovel a bit. Clean the kitchen or something."

"Suit yourself, little friend," Starchild nodded understandingly. "Have you talked to Sugar or Artie recently?"

"About the lake house? Yeah, I did. Kevin and I are on board."

"So are we going on a car trip together?"

"If you want to, we can totally carpool," Blaine said. "Your car or ours. Whichever you prefer."

"You sure Kevin will be okay driving with me? He didn't want to hear my last cool fact."

"That was my fault," Blaine assured him. "He loves your facts, trust me."

"Superb. I'll go read up on things before the trip. Need to be ready," Starchild beamed at him. "I'll see you around, neighbour."

"Bye," Blaine said before Starchild began talking again.

"One last fact before you go," he said with a devilish smile. "A blowjob works better than washing a kitchen."

With that Starchild left.

Blaine laughed to himself. The man had a point. But he doubted it was a way to solve relationship problems. So he readied himself to go talk to Kurt. He wasn't looking forward to it at all, but he had to.

The house was silent. He looked around the first floor but Kurt wasn't there. So he walked upstairs and into the room they now shared. He wasn't there either.

"Kurt?" he called out, carefully opening the doors to the bathroom. It was empty.

Something heavy settled into his stomach. Kurt must have moved back to the guest room.

Blaine was right. He knocked on the door of the room and Kurt opened it not long after.

"Hey," Blaine said rather awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," Kurt said after a long sigh.

Blaine walked into the smaller room and sat down on Kurt's bed with the other following him. He tried to ignore the fact that Kurt was not wearing pants.

"Before I apologise, can you explain me, why you got so angry?"

"Because you were making fun of me," Kurt explained with a frown. "I thought it was obvious."

"I wasn't making fun of _you_. It was the situation that made me laugh..."

"But you don't have to repeatedly laugh about it."

"I'm sorry I did… But it's not really about the dog, is it?" Blaine asked, worried.

"No," Kurt hung his head defeated. "In high school people used to make fun of me because I was different. Now, some of my colleagues are making fun of me because my dad is my boss. They think that I only got my job because of that. So when you started laughing at me... I guess I'm just sensitive about it."

"That's natural," Blaine said with a sympathetic smile. "But trust me, I would never mock you like _that_. I didn't mean to hurt you…"

"I know," Kurt said. "I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"Speaking of which… Starchild now thinks that you hate his facts."

"Shit, I'm a horrible person," Kurt hid his face in his hands. "I'll apologise to him. And I'm so sorry I ruined our first date..."

"It was as much my fault as it was yours... I could have listened to you when you told me to stop. So I'm sorry too. But you could have explained me why it got you upset."

"I'll make sure to communicate better next time... So, we are good then?" Kurt asked hopefully.

"The best," Blaine assured him with a smile and a short kiss. "I have an idea how you could apologise to Starchild."

"Bake chocolate chip 'sorry' cookies?"

"Are you reading my mind, Hummel?" Blaine asked mock scandalised.

"No, I just know by now that your idea of the best apology is my amazing baked goods. Especially when you get to taste the first batch to make sure they are good enough."

"You wouldn't want to apologise with cookies that are not sweet enough, would you?"

"I wouldn't. I'm so glad I have you to make sure my apology is proper," Kurt said, hardly able to stop himself from smiling.

"You are very welcome," Blaine said solemnly. "Do you need help with the cookies?"

"And by help you mean eating chocolate chips?"

Blaine shrugged. "I'm good at it," he said with a smile.

"Come on, assistant, let's bake," Kurt tugged him.

"Do I have to take my pants off too?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at his _boyfriend_.

"Pantless cooking?" Kurt perked up at the suggestion. "As much as I'd like to do that, it's probably not proper… How about I put pants on?"

"Ruining my fun, Hummel," Blaine let out an exasperated sigh, watching as Kurt put on a pair of sweatpants.

The cookies were extremely delicious, Blaine concluded after testing the first batch. The second was taken to Starchild, who decided to keep them until the weekend, to make sure everyone was blessed with the goodness.

Before parting he had promised Kurt to refrain from dog pee facts in the future. Kurt thanked him gratefully.

On Friday Blaine held auditions for the play and all main parts were voted unanimously by the judges - Blaine, Sugar, Sheldon, and Will.

The kids also voted for including the glee club in the play so they also needed to work it all out. But it could wait until the next week, Blaine decided.

When the class ended Blaine and Sugar hurried to go back home.

"Are you and Kevin ready?" she asked in the car.

"We are packed and ready to leave whenever everyone else get ready," Blaine said, texting Kurt to let him know he was on his way. "I wanted to ask you one thing..."

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

"If a kid starts acting... a little off? Maybe gets uncharacteristically quiet... What should I do?"

"Talk to me and then I will set up a meeting with the kid's parents or guardians so the issue can be solved," she said, killing the engine. "What's going on?"

"It's Beth," Blaine said. "She used to be so cheerful in my class and whenever I was babysitting her, you know? She looks pretty down lately. I asked her if anything was wrong. She said her parents were yelling a lot at night. She asked me if it could be because of her."

"I knew their fights would harm her... Dammit," Sugar cursed. "We can talk to Puck and Quinn over the weekend. It will be easier in the informal surroundings."

"Maybe we should wait until after the trip?" Blaine suggested. "Let them have a normal weekend."

"You have a point. Maybe this trip will help them solve their latest issue… I'll look into it…" the woman said thoughtfully and started the engine again.

An hour later Blaine was sitting in a car again, only this time it was Starchild's. Carpooling with him was an interesting experience. The man turned on a three hour long documentary on how dead human bodies could be used in science and shushed them every time one of them wanted to say anything.

Kurt and Blaine ended up texting each other the whole trip.

"This was so much fun!" Starchild beamed when they finally reached the lake house. "I have a documentary on elephants for the trip back. Can't wait for Sunday!"

"Get your stuff and follow me inside," Sugar told everyone as she went to get her bag from the car trunk.

As a great host she showed everyone where they would be staying and left them to unpack. The room was spacious and light. Furnished for a comfortable stay, Kurt noted, looking where to put the clothes.

"Um, there are condoms, lube, and champagne in the bathroom," Kurt said upon checking.

"Maybe someone had left them there?" Blaine asked, walking inside to see for himself.

"There is a note saying ' _Dear Kevin and Brian, enjoy your stay_ ' next to the things... It feels like we are in some fancy hotel."

"Does that mean we get to steal the towels too?" Blaine joked, looking at the pack of condoms. "They got my size right. That's weird. Should I be worried? Maybe Sugar has some hidden cameras in our bedroom."

"Yeah, 'cause that's realistic," Kurt laughed. "Let's put our stuff away and go downstairs. The longer we stay here, the more suspicious they will get."

"Don't want them to think I'm ravishing you?" Blaine teased him.

"M-hm, don't want the others to get jealous that I get to be with you," Kurt smiled before giving him a chaste kiss.

By the time everyone got settled in it was rather late. They were tired and didn't want to do anything. Hence, a peaceful evening with wine or beer, chatting about everything and nothing.

"We should totally play truth or dare," Sugar suggested cheerfully when the conversation began to die out. "Kevin, Brian, and Starchild must always choose truth so we can learn all their darkest secrets."

"It's called truth or dare, not truth or truth," Kurt said, looking pointedly at the woman.

"Trust me, truth is the safest option with these," Artie laughed. "I was once dared to roll to the end of the street naked. I was lucky not to be spotted by some paparazzi. But the old lady passing by was very happy to accompany me... She actually turned around so she could walk with me."

"What lady wouldn't be happy to see you naked?" Sugar asked sultrily.

"Sugar has a point," Puck nodded thoughtfully. "You definitely have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Enough about that," Artie said and took a big sip of beer, consequently choking. "Starchild, you can go first," he said, coughing.

"Jolly!" the man exclaimed and looked around, stopping at Blaine. "Brian, truth or truth?"

"Oh my, I don't know... Maybe truth?" he said, faking doubt.

"Alright. When Tutankhamun was mummified, what was done to his penis?"

He waited expectantly while the others looked at him unimpressed.

"Have you ever played this game?" Kurt asked.

"Back when I was a kid," Starchild said after a moment. "Brian, either give me the truth or you will have to kiss me."

"What?" Blaine asked surprised. "I thought the penalty was drinking a shot of alcohol," he looked around for others' approval.

"This is even better!" Sugar clapped. "The one asking question chooses penalty."

"This isn't fair!" Blaine said, glancing at Kurt, who was smirking. "How do I know about some old dude's dick?"

"You should probably pay more attention to Starchild then," Kurt shrugged innocently.

"You know the answer..." Blaine said and Kurt only smiled at him. "Was it one of the crazy facts? I don't know... Was it put in a jar like some organs?"

"No," Starchild said excitedly, making a kissy face. "Come here big boy!"

Blaine looked at Starchild and gulped audibly. He didn't want to do this. Just like not long ago he was forced to kiss someone. He felt sick.

It was just a game, he had to remind himself. Just a game.

He felt Kurt's hand on his knee and saw a worried look changing the smirk. "How about a second-hand kiss?" he asked Starchild.

"What do you mean?" the man looked at him puzzled.

"I really don't like others touching my man..." Kurt stated seriously. "So I would kiss you and then Brian. I would be... the middle man."

"Well, if that's what you prefer, I don't mind kissing you," Starchild shrugged and threw himself at him.

Blaine watched as Starchild latched onto Kurt's lips. It lasted no more than a second, but it was enough for Blaine to feel a beast inside him waking up. Nobody should be allowed to kiss Kurt but him. As long as they were together, Kurt was his and his only.

"Your turn," Kurt said to him when Starchild pulled away with an extra loud pop.

Kurt touched Blaine's lips with his just for a moment, but Blaine wasn't having it. He pulled Kurt back to give him a proper kiss. The kind that would let everyone know whose Kurt was and who Blaine belonged to. He didn't pull away until he heard the others whistling.

"Now I'm disappointed I went with Kevin's second-hand kiss idea," Starchild said, pouting. "Brian is so much more passionate."

"And I thought Kevin was the possessive one," Quinn laughed.

Blaine lowered his head, his cheeks on fire. He wasn't possessive. He just wanted his boyfriend all for himself.

Maybe he was possessive. He had never had a chance to test it after all.

"I'm yours and yours only," Kurt's assuring words followed by a fond smile made him look up.

"Just making sure Starchild knows that," he laughed lightly.

"In my defence, you were the one I wanted to kiss in the first place," Starchild said. "No offence, Kevin."

"None taken," Kurt said. "My man is irresistible, I know this much."

"Definitely a keeper," Sugar nodded. "Brian, your turn."

"Um... Artie, truth or dare?" he asked, having no plan what to ask or make the man do.

"I don't want to risk it so I choose truth," he said.

"Ah..." Blaine thought, picking his brain. "What's... the craziest thing you have ever done on set?"

"Boooring," Sugar yawned demonstratively.

Artie laughed. "Not long ago Cooper Anderson and I were the only ones on set and we got quite drunk. I filmed him just for fun and the shots were so good they made it into the final cut. Basically, in some scenes he is actually drunk. You'll see when the movie comes out."

They all laughed and didn't notice Blaine's longing smile.

"Sugar, truth or dare?" Artie attacked his wife.

"Dare, bunny!" she said excitedly. "Oh no," she added when her husband picked up Kurt's baked cookie.

"Eat this, dear," he said, raising the baked good to her mouth.

"Ah, what if I don't?" she asked uncomfortably.

"Why wouldn't you? It's easy," Puck said. He was the only one who hadn't picked up on Sugar's difficulty of eating. They avoided the word 'disorder'.

"Actually," Blaine grabbed a cookie and took a bite, "Kevin used low-fat products when making these. They are very low calorie," he lied.

"They are?" Starchild asked, startled, and spat what he had in his mouth. "Eww..."

"Is it okay if I have half of it?" Sugar asked. "It's huge."

"Half the cookie and three baby carrots then," Artie bargained.

"Deal," Sugar agreed and took a bite tentatively. She closed her eyes and moaned at the taste. "It's worth a sin."

"Pf," Starchild rolled his eyes. "Low calorie... Bullshit. It's not real food. I take my forgiveness back, Kevin, you traitor," he added, glaring at Kurt.

Sugar fulfilled her dare and it was her turn now. "I'll show you how this game is played. Brian, truth or truth?"

"You make it sound as if I have a choice," Blaine laughed, emptying his wine glass. Kurt hurried to offer him more. "Thanks, but it's enough for tonight."

"How did you lose your virginity?" Sugar asked.

"Ooh, good one," Puck laughed, offering the woman a high-five, which she gladly accepted.

 _A middle age married man fucked me doggie style,_ Blaine thought.

 _It's not truth,_ another voice told him. It sounded strangely like Kurt.

Blaine looked at him and remembered. It was his choice what to call losing virginity. It wasn't with his first or last client. It was with the person he _wanted_ to be intimate with. In some sense, Kurt took his virginity.

"Well, it was with Kevin actually," he said, looking at his boyfriend. "He was very sweet and caring. Made me feel like nothing else, but us existed. There weren't, you know, rose petals, candles, or romantic music playing in the background, but it was perfect nevertheless. Hands down one of my favourite memories."

Kurt looked lovingly at him and Blaine pecked his lips. This man in front of him was extraordinary. He doubted he would ever meet anyone like him.

"Who topped?" Puck asked, ruining the moment

"It's one question only," Kurt said, looking angrily at him. Hisface was turning rather dark shade of pink.

"But, if you have been together for three years and Brian is twenty three now... You were twenty when you lost your virginity?" Puck clarified unimpressed. "And I thought Kevin was a prude."

"I think it's sweet," Quinn glared at her husband. "I wish I had waited for someone special too."

"You lost your virginity to me," Puck reminded her.

"I rest my case," the woman said.

"Did you know that crocodiles can digest a steel nail?" Starchild asked out of the blue.

"Really?" Kurt hurried to show interest.

"Wow, didn't know that. Tell us more," Sugar asked, glancing at Puck, whose anger was becoming more and more visible.

Blaine caught up with the rest and asked, "How exactly does that work?"

Starchild looked at them surprised. "Didn't know you, guys, were reptile lovers," he said. "Well, it's because of how acidic their stomachs are."

"That's so cool," Sugar said, faking interest. They weren't fooling anyone. Maybe except Starchild.

"In what way were you not satisfied?" Puck asked, glaring at his wife.

"Hey, Puck, I have this awesome Belgian beer," Artie said, taking the situation in his hands. "I've been waiting for company that would appreciate it. Would you mind giving me a hand in the garage?"

Puck looked back at Quinn, who said nothing. "Do I ever say 'no' to beer?"

"You don't," Quinn muttered silently. Luckily, Blaine seemed to be the only one who heard.

"You look ready to bite Puck's head off," Blaine said when Puck rolled Artie out. "Did you have another fight?"

"You could say so," Quinn said, uncomfortable.

"Why are you still together?" Starchild asked. "Seems insane with how much you hate him."

"I don't hate him. We just don't see eye to eye. If it wasn't for Beth..."

" _This_ is not good to Beth," Blaine shook his head. "I've been meaning to talk to you..." he said looking questioningly at Sugar, who nodded at him.

"Brian came to me with some sensitive issue..." she said carefully. "We can talk about it later in private."

"Just say it," Quinn said, defeated. "You all already know about our problems."

"Beth has been getting rather quiet at kindergarten," Blaine explained, carefully choosing words. "She... hears you two fighting at night. And because you pretend things are okay in front of her, she thinks you are silently fighting because of her."

"Oh my..." Quinn gasped, covering her mouth. "We were always careful not to let her hear..."

"You could try the couple's therapy again. With a better therapist this time," Sugar offered gently. "If you want to be with Puck for Beth, the least you can do is try to stop fighting. It would be good for you, too. I can ask my therapist if he knows any good specialist."

"I don't know..." Quinn hesitated.

"You could also talk to Beth," Blaine suggested. "She is very mature and smart for her age. Let her know you and Puck have some temporary issues and they don't involve her. What you are doing right now is hurting her."

The young woman looked close to tears when Artie and Puck returned. They took their previous spots and Puck was definitely surprised when he felt his wife's hand on his. The others pretended to not see anything.

It was nearing two in the morning when the friends called it a night.

Kurt and Blaine, despite feeling exhausted, went to take a quick shower together. They hadn't intended to use the hosts' gifts but things got rather heated in the shower. After making sweet love they fell asleep in each other's arms.

In the morning the maid woke everyone up with a steaming hot coffee in bed. It was too hot to drink straight away so Kurt decided to pass time by leisurely devouring Blaine's mouth. Not that Blaine complained.

During breakfast Puck learned the mystery that had been bugging him. With a slap on both Blaine's and Kurt's butts he concluded that Kurt bottomed. No matter how angry he was, Kurt didn't deny it.

"I knew it!" he yelled and Artie gave him some cash.

Kurt and Blaine refrained from comments.

After breakfast Sugar and Artie gave them the tour outside. Even though it was cold, it was beautiful nevertheless. The place was secluded and the only way to see them was from the other side of the lake. Blaine loved it.

It started raining not long into their tour. They went inside and got comfortable in the living room where they played _Monopoly_. Quinn and Artie didn't join them, preferring watching TV.

Blaine was having fun. He hadn't played the game since high school and was a little rusty, but soon remembered his favourite strategy. Not long after that he was beating the others.

He was about to buy yet another hotel when someone switched the channel and news came up.

" _...businessman John Travis was killed over two months ago and police had not arrested anyone for the murder. Until now. Our trusted source says that the infamous Mike Chang has been arrested this morning. We still don't know how the two were connected, but..._ "

The channel switched again and was now playing music.

Blaine looked at Kurt with big eyes, not knowing what emotion he wanted to portray.

"Let's take a break," Kurt suggested. "It's been almost two hours and I'm getting tired of Brian buying the whole property..."

"Let's just call it quits," Sugar said. "I'm never playing with you again, Brian. I'm used to winning, but with you it's impossible."

"Sorry..." Blaine said none-apologetically. "Kevin, would you like a drink?"

"I do," Kurt said, standing up. "Should we bring anything for anyone?"

The others all refused and Kurt and Blaine went to the kitchen. They found the maid there, but she left as soon as they told her they didn't need anything from her. Finally they were left alone.

"Did you hear the news?" Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. "I did. I'll text my boss. I'm surprised we haven't heard from him yet if Mike was really arrested."

"Maybe he is waiting for more information..." Blaine said, biting his bottom lip. "Kurt, what does that mean to us?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"If the killer is arrested, the trial will take place very soon. It's almost over for us..." Blaine said, his hands resting on Kurt's hips. He wanted to feel him close. For as long as he had.

"We don't know that," Kurt argued. "Trials take a while. Especially in murder cases. We still have time."

"We do..." Blaine nodded with a heavy heart. No matter how long they had, it wouldn't be enough.

A doorbell rang through the house and soon a baby's cry followed. There were four voices. Artie and Sugar, some girl and then... Blaine knew that voice.

"Shit," he cursed in a whisper, listening attentively. It couldn't be. And yet he knew it was.

"Guys! Come meet our guests," Sugar's voice shrieked.

"I thought it would only be us," Kurt said confused. He took Blaine's hand and walked to the front door. Blaine could hardly move his legs.


End file.
